Angels in Hell
by Candra 'wolfgal97
Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons.
1. Blind and Bound

_Author's Note: This here is the collaboration between VeritasVamp and myself. She is the Connor to my Murphy. No joke. We have twitter accounts that prove it. Follow Connor atConnorMacM and Murphy atMurphyMacM. Those crazy twins are pretty funny! Speaking of twitter, that's where this was written. I kid you not, we wrote this entirely through DM on twitter, her writing for Connor and me for Murphy. That stuff made me cry! Multiple times! So I'll shut up now and leave you to your feels._

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_**Chapter One: Blind and Bound**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

The MacManus twins sat at the bar in McGinty's cleaning their guns. Murphy's hands moved deftly over the weapons, making sure they were in immaculate shape for their next use, Connor, did the same to his guns. Behind the bar, Romeo was cleaning glasses for Doc while the old man was wiping down the tables across the room.

"So you guys never told me how you got into the whole Saint business," the Mexican said suddenly.

Connor glanced sidelong to Murphy, meeting his brother's eyes. He looked back at his own wrists, seeing the scars barely visible to those who don't know think to look.

"Well, I s'ppose it started right here in McGinty's a few years back. There was a bar fight that got a little...outta control. Couple o' Russians came in ta cause trouble. It was Saint Paddy's! What were they thinkin'?"

Murphy laughs a little at the memory. "Yeah, it really wasn't a fair fight... For them. My crazy brudder here decided it was a good idea to light one of 'em on fire!"

Connor smirked and winked at his brother. "Well he was bein' a pain in the ass an' I thought I'd return the sensation!" The fairer twin laughed. No one but Murphy knew the guilt Connor felt for what happened after teaching Ivan Chekov that lesson.

Murphy snorted while his hands continued to roam his gun. "Then _they _decided to repay _us_. The next morning, Ivan an' his lil' buddy found our apartment an' broke down the door while we were half asleep."

Connor's eyes wouldn't look up from the gun he was cleaning, the only indication how uncomfortable he was at the recollection. "Ivan, da one I lit on fire, cracked me over da head wit' his handgun. I fell... an' then he dragged me to the toilet. He made me handcuff m'self to da thing as he held a gun to the back of my head. Da other guy had Murph on his knees, so I didn't fight 'em..."

Murphy noticed Connor's discomfort, so he took charge of the conversation. "The guy was pretty pissed at us. Said he planned to kill Connor but had decided against it. Said he'd decided ta kill me instead."

Romeo's hands stilled on the glass he was cleaning, totally enveloped in the boys' story. "Oh, wow. Bet that didn't go well."

Connor raised his eyes, his lips pressed together as he let out a breath. "No, it didn't... They, uh...left me there, handcuffed ta the toilet. I watched 'em take Murph...outta the apartment. I knew they'd take 'im to the alley an'...as Ivan said, 'Shoot 'em in the head'..." Connor grimaced, lowering his head with a sigh. "So I started pullin' at da handcuffs, tryin' ta break the toilet to get free..."

"They yanked me outta the room away from Connor. I could hear 'em screamin' for me as da Russians took me downstairs. I tried ta fight 'em ta get back to Connor, but I just got knocked around for that. So there we are, in an alley. I'm on my knees lookin' up da barrel of a gun and what do I see?" Murphy laughed a little at the memory of seeing his brother on the roof. "A flying toilet, my own personal saving grace!"

Romeo gaped at them. "A toilet? No way!"

Connor smiled, but a hint of an old rage flickered across his face. His voice was low and serious. "Well, y'see, I got so angry...an' scared dat they'd kill Murphy... So I tore da toilet from the ground an' hauled it up to da roof. I could see Ivan holdin' the gun in Murph's face an' the other one on look out. Then I dropped the toilet right on Ivan's head."

Romeo just couldn't believe the story he was hearing. "So you got the one guy with the toilet... What about the other guy?"

Murphy elbows Connor, trying to lighten his darker mood. "This is the _really _crazy part. Not only does Connor drop a toilet on a guy, but then he decided it was a bright idea to jump off the building to tackle the other one!"

"Yeah," Connor laughed. "Well, I wanted ta kill 'im, m'self. I had ta beat yah to him, now didn't I? What's a five story building to a lil' sibling rivalry?"

Murphy smirked, happy his brother was being playful again. "Ahh, I see. An' ya had ta use a toilet an' your thick skull ta do it? Really? Really, Connor? I t'ink you're lyin' ta y'self, Veritas."

"It was proper _justice_ fer what they tried ta do, now wasn't it? Aequitas..." Connor smirked at his brother.

"I'll have ta remind ya, brudder. I was da one who killed da second guy after _you _passed out cold on da ground! But, sure. I'll give ya dat. As long as ya promise me ta not light any more Russians on fire."

At this, Connor let out a full laugh. "Alright, dear brudder, no more lightin' Russians on fire. I promise." He laughed again, shaking his head.

Romeo shook his head as he went back to cleaning his glasses. "You two are crazy. Totally loco."

Murphy was about to reply back when out of nowhere, gunfire blasted the room, shattering glasses above the bar. Romeo cried out as a bullet tagged his arm. Thinking fast, the twins dived over the bar, dragging their friend down with them.

"Doc! Get down!" Connor screamed over the sound of shotgun blasts. His hands quickly loaded the gun he'd managed to take with him over the bar that now served as cover. He locked eyes with Murphy and began to count down.

Connor glances at Romeo, who was putting pressure on the bleeding wound that marred his arm. "Rome, ya stay down an' ya stay quiet," he commanded over the roar of sound. At the confirming nod of his friend, his gaze turned towards his brother.

Murphy steeled himself, gripping his gun as the countdown finished and the two stood up, guns aimed towards the sound the shots had been coming from. His heart sank when he saw that a man had gotten to Doc and was pressing a gun against the old man's neck.

"B-b-boys, wait..." Doc stuttered, eyes going from one twin to the other. Connor's breath caught in his throat. His hands felt cold, but he held his position. A short man with dark features had pulled Doc down into a booth. He held Doc still with both legs around his waist, a gun held to his neck. When he screamed his orders, Connor could make out an Italian accent.

"Drop all your weapons NOW! Or I'll kill the old man!"

Connor gripped Murphy's arm with his free hand, dread held on his golden features. He realized he knew who the man was. Panza. The suspect Special Agent Bloom had told them about. Murphy's returned expression showed he recognized the man too. When Connor looked back to Doc, his eyes communicated his sense of guilt, "I-I-I'm sorry, boys..." Connor grimaced and his mouth worked in wordless frustration.

Murphy's eyes locked onto Doc's, worried for his old friend. The scared expression on the man's face made Murphy want to comfort him. "S'okay Doc. Yah didn't do anything..."

"Shut up and drop your weapons!" the Italian screamed at the two. He cocked his guns, amplifying the threat. "NOW!"

Connor turned his head slightly toward Murphy. The Saints' eyes met and seemed to agree in that moment to lower their guns. Connor looked back to the man holding Doc, "Alright, take it easy... We're droppin' our guns..." He dropped his handgun to the floor. It hit the floor along with Murphy's making a loud clatter. "Y'alright, Doc?" Doc nodded his reply.

"Don't ya worry, Doc," Murphy tried to ease the old man. "Eveythin' is gonna be fine."

"I said shut up! Both of you!" the Italian raged, shaking the gun that was pressed against their friend. A dark expression shown in his eyes as he smirked at the twins. "So... brothers... we're gonna have some fun with that. Hands in the air, on your knees."

Connor took a slow breath and looked at Murphy as he raised his hands. "Réidh, deartháir?" _Ready, brother?_

Murphy mirrored the action, raising his hands as well as sinking to his knees. "Réidh. Bí láidir". _Ready. Be strong. _

The fairer twin sank to knees alongside Murphy. Connor nodded his understanding to his brother. His eyes glared back at the man with the gun. "Alright, our guns are down. We're on our knees. Now let Doc go..." Connor waited, trying to keep his fear off his face.

Panza only smiled. "Boys!" he called out. At his beckoning two men appeared, carrying rope and other items that didn't bode well for twins. "Take care of this," Panza directed.

Connor sees the rope and zip-ties the approaching men held. He looked at Murphy and swallowed. "Beidh mé ag guí ar do shon, Murph." _I'll be praying for you, Murph... _Connor keeps his eyes on Murphy as the men pulled their hands down behind their backs.

Murphy's eyes found Connor's. He attempted to keep the fear out of them as he held his brother's gaze. He tried to not grimace at the feel of rough hands yanking at him. "Same anseo. Grá agat, Connor." _Same here. Love you, Connor._

Connor's sadness was clear in his expression. He took a short breath, "Grá agat, Murphy." He watched his brother, fighting the urge to break free from the man securing a zip-tie around his wrists. The plastic dug into his skin. He winced unintentionally.

"D-d-don't do this..." Doc pleaded.

Connor's eyes were still on Murphy as he tried to calm their old friend, " S'okay Doc, don'tcha worry 'bout us."

"We'll be fine... juss fine," Murphy added. He could feel the harsh fingers wrap around his wrists as his hands were secured behind his back, pushing down the panic at the loss of freedom.

Connor grit his teeth as the men began tying his ankles together with the rope. "Вы не возражаете, если я зажег эти ребята в огне, не так ли?" _Yah wouldn't mind if I lit these guys on fire, would yah?_ He winked at Murphy, then blinked away the pain as new bonds were roughly tightened.

Murphy winced as he tested the strength of the zip-ties around his wrists. When they didn't give at all, he silently cursed the situation. "Я бы не возража. _I wouldn't mind. _He tried to conjure a smile for Connor as the men began to bind his ankles together.

Connor let out a small laugh and half-smiled at Murphy. "Well I'll have ta..." He was cut off suddenly when when a gag was forced into his mouth. It pulled his head back against the man holding him, making it hard to see Murphy.

Seeing his brother so helpless terrified Murphy. He moved to go to his aid, calling out his name. "Con-" when he was yanked back into place by a fist full of his hair. Before he could call out again, a gag was forced between his teeth.

"Mmhh..." Connor tried to say his brother's name in response. His breaths came quicker as his fear escalated. Connor kept his eyes on his twin wishing he could do more to calm him.

Murphy tried to force away the tears building in his eyes as the gravity of the situation began to fall down on him. He was completely helpless and unable to do a thing to help Connor. He called to him, trying to comfort him, words distorted by the gag. "Cnnrrr.."

The sound of his name through the gag in his brother's mouth pulled at Connor's instincts. He started to struggle, wanting to go to Murphy. He no longer cared if the fear was evident on his face or not. Then the Saint heard another voice calling out.

"Stop! L-l-leave dem alone!" Doc argued, unable to keep silent at the sight of the twins' wordless communication.

Panza, who was overseeing the event, held on to the old man. "Shut up!" he hissed before knocking Doc out with the butt of his gun in response for his attempt to fight back.

Murphy growled at the sight of his friend's limp body lying on the floor. He attempted to struggle to Doc's side, but was rewarded with a violent punch to the face for his effort. "Mmm.." he groaned against the fabric in his mouth.

Connor roars non-verbally when Doc drops to the floor and Murphy is struck in the face. He struggled harder against his restraints, ignoring the pain in his wrists. A punch comes from nowhere, sending Connor to the floor. Unable to catch himself, Connor's cheek hits the wood floor, hard. He felt a cut open on his brow, the familiar sensation of blood running down the side of his face. Connor's fear-filled eyes found Murphy's again.

Seeing his brother hit the floor, blood pouring from his face sent Murphy into a rage. He snarled at the men as he tried to reach Connor, but he was pulled back roughly by his shirt as a hood was slipped over his head, tearing his fearful eyes away from Connor's matching blue pair.

"Mmmff!" Connor screams through his gag as a hood is yanked over his head, too. He struggled in a panic, earning a solid kick just below ribs. "Unnff... Mmmff!"

Hearing his brother's pained sound angered Murphy like nothing else. He struggled blindly with his captors, kicking and screaming the whole way as his boots dragged on the ground. "Cnnrr! Cnnnrr!"

Connor thrashed his bound legs as he was dragged out of McGinty's behind Murphy. Everything hit him at once. The anger. The helplessness. And the fear. A wordless, raging scream erupted from Connor MacManus as he was taken.


	2. Separation and Screams

_Candra's Note: So I'd just like to say thank you for all the favs/follows/reviews we've gotten. It means a lot to us. Your feedback is what keeps us truckin' into the late hours of the night! Oh, and we picked up a random Rocco on twitter. Follow him atDavidDellaRocc1_

_VeritasVamp: Thank you all for the favs and reviews! I've been lurking them and loving them. Write more? Please? I've been having a ton o' fun writing this with Candra. I hope you forgive us for what's coming... Enjoy!_

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_**Chapter Two: Separation and Screams**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

Murphy's head collided with the floor of whatever vehicle he'd been thrown into. His vision behind the hood over his head swam as the blow rolled over him. The only thought that rooted him was his fear that they would separate him from Connor. The very idea terrified him to the point that he screamed for him. "Cnnnrrr! Cnnnrr!"

Connor could hear Murphy screaming for him through the gag and hood. To his small relief he was thrown into the same van, he assumed it was a van, with Murphy. He rolled a shoulder to maneuver himself closer to his brother. "Mmmff," he uttered through the cloth between his teeth. Connor felt his shoulder press up against something and knew it was Murphy. "Mmmff..."

Murphy calmed instantly when he felt Connor's touch. He curled closer to his brother's body, trying to assure himself that he was really there. "Cnnnrr... Cnnnrr mmm-" The butt of a rifle collided with his head. Pain flashed through him as a wound split open on his cheek. Still, he managed to contain the whimper of agony so Connor wouldn't worry.

An unfamiliar voice growled at the twins. "Shut up!"

Connor heard his brother yelp in pain and felt him flinch as he was struck with something hard. Rage started to resurface. He shifted slightly and prepared to lash out. Suddenly something cold and metallic pressed against his neck, just under his jaw. A shotgun. Connor froze and held his breath. Another voice spoke with malicious warning.

"You shut it too, or you're next."

Connor tilted his head in a single, silent nod. The pressure on his neck let up, but the gun stayed in place.

The darkness played at the edges of Murphy's vision. He forced it away as he wriggled closer to Connor. He calmed when he felt his twin's chin resting above his head, taking solace in the crook of Connor's neck. The comfort Connor offered ebbed away at the blinding pain raging through his head.

Connor calmed as he felt Murphy's breath on his neck. It drew his attention away from shotgun muzzle on the other side. He wanted to try to speak. He wanted to rage. But he couldn't risk that. Feeling his brother so close relaxed him enough. The Saint knew that he could face anything as long as he had Murphy by his side.

Connor tried to keep track of what he heard outside the van like in that Robert Redford film. But it was harder than it seemed. He could tell by the sound of Murphy's breathing that the blow he'd taken for talking had been brutal. He turned his chin closer to his brother. It was all he could do. Connor wanted desperately to ask if he was alright, but the gag and gun held him back.

Murphy could feel Connor's warm body next to him, lulling him into a false sense of security. His head throbbed, but he ignored it as he stayed by Connor's side. He wanted desperately to try to speak to him again, to ask if he was alright, but he feared another blow to the head would send him into the threatening darkness, leaving Connor alone. That was something he wasn't willing to risk.

Connor just focused on Murphy's presence. He was able to stay calm despite the circumstances. That is, until the van turned onto gravel, slowed and lurched to a stop. Connor felt his heartbeat speed up in fearful anticipation. He tried to slow his breathing again.

The sound of Connor's rapidly beating heart beat in time with the throbbing of Murphy's head. He felt himself ease into the steady rhythm. That cloak of safety was ripped away from him as Connor's solid form was yanked away, causing the panic to resurface all over again.

Suddenly strong arms tore Connor away from his brother. He tried to keep calm. To think of a plan. Connor knew he couldn't get away with a physical fight. So he tested getting vocal again. He meant his tone to be reassuring, to just let Murphy know he was there. "Mmmff..."

Having his twin ripped away from him while Connor called out through a gag was the absolute worst thing that could happen in Murphy's mind. He struggled, fighting wildly with the hands that grabbed at him, dragging him out of the car as he struggled blindly to find his brother. "Cnnnrrr! Cnnn!"

"Mmmff..." Connor called out to his brother. He kept as much fear out of his voice as he could, hoping it would help Murphy. Focusing on his brother helped Connor allow this to unfold. His breaths came in quicker, shallow gasps.

Tallon-fingers dig into the meat of Murphy's arms as he's dragged across gravel. He heard Connor calling out to him, enforcing the instinct to fight back. "Cnnnrr! Cnnnrr!" Murphy thrashed and jerked in their vice-like grip, fighting like a thing possessed against the zip-ties that sliced at his tender flesh.

Connor's boots dragged across the gravel of a driveway. He could hear Murphy give them hell behind him. That's Murphy... But he needed to help calm his brother. Connor was afraid of what they'd do to Murphy if he kept it up. He called out again, but stopped when a gun was held against his temple.

"_Shut._ Up..."

Murphy could feel the terrain under his thrashing legs change into a smoother surface. They were in a house, somewhere walled and enclosed. He continued to fight back, even when the hood was ripped away from his head, flooding his deprived eyes with bright, painful light. When his vision cleared, he could see another man holding his brother remove the hood from his head as well.

Murphy's heart clinched. Connor was bleeding...

Connor blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light when the hood was suddenly removed. He saw Murphy across from him, eyes searching his face anxiously. It must be the blood on his face, Connor assumed. The hood had been a rough material, making the cut on his brow worse. Connor blinked back fear as he saw Murph was bleeding too.

The wound on Murphy's cheek looked worse than it really was. The flesh had split under impact of the gun, but right now it was the last thing on his mind. He was only able to focus on Connor. That is, until strong hands grabbed him with a bruising grip, dragging him away from Connor and backwards towards a door...

It only took a moment for Connor to realize they were taking Murphy away from him. "Nnnngg! Mmmmff!" He screamed through the gag. He began struggling wildly, in complete disregard of any threat to himself. All he saw in his mind was the encounter with the Russians when they cuffed him to a toilet and took Murphy to execute him. "Mmmff!" A hard backhand crashed into his face, silencing him.

Upon seeing his brother struck, Murphy lost all sense of self-preservation. His only goal was to get to Connor and to keep him safe. He threw his weight forward against the harsh grip on his arms, trying desperately to free himself. "Cnnnrrr! Cnnn!" he screamed as he was wrenched back by his hair in an attempt to silence him.

* * *

By the time Connor had blinked the stars from his vision Murphy was gone from sight. His heart sank with dread. He could hear Murphy screaming for him. Then the sound of a solid punch striking his brother. Connor ignored the threat to himself once again. He needed Murphy to hear him, to know he was alright. "Mmmff!"

* * *

The hit to the head that had been inflicted on him had Murphy reeling, just as he feared. He fought harder than ever just to stay awake as he slumped, his body going limp in the man's arms. He called out weakly, "Cnnnrrr..." trying to let his brother know he was still with him, still holding on for him as he was dragged to a chair in the tiny room.

* * *

Reeling from the second blow to his face Connor strained to hear Murphy. When he couldn't he forced himself to calm down. He turned his sharp blue eyes defiantly toward the man who just secured him to the chair with cuffs, despite the zip-ties still digging into his wrists. The man had dark features, like Panza, but was heavier and taller, though that wasn't saying much. He had an intensity in his eyes that made Connor brace himself. This wouldn't be over anytime soon.

* * *

Murphy's head lulled as he tried to collect himself. His zip-tied hands were forced over the back of the chair as he bit the inside of his mouth, centering with the pain from the multiple blows to the head. Before he knew what was happening, the gag was torn from his mouth. "Connor! Connor!"

* * *

When Murphy's clear voice shouted his name Connor's eyes snapped to the slightly-open door. Then his gag was suddenly gone, pulled out by the nameless man looming over him. He didn't hesitate, "Murph! Are y'alright?!"

* * *

Murphy was faced away from the door. He had to look over his shoulder, straining his neck as his head turned towards the sound of Connor's voice instinctually. He tried to reply instantly. "Connor! I'm- ooff!" He was interrupted by a forceful uppercut to the jaw, cutting him off.

* * *

Connor's face displayed his clear panic when he heard Murphy's reply violently cut short. His voice pitched into a scream. "Murphy?!" Connor was answered with a damaging blow to the ribs followed by a vice grip on his throat. His eyes glared back at his abuser with matching ferocity. The man laughed, amused by Connor's attitude. His grip tightened on Connor's throat.

The man's voice was low and mocking. "Wait 'til we get started on you."

* * *

Murphy tried to call back, desperately wanting to let Connor know that he was fine, but the blows were coming in much too quickly. Every inch of him was attacked. His ribs... his face... It all hurt. But it was nothing compared to the agony he felt when the man beating on him delivered a powerful kick to his left shoulder, eliciting a painful scream from the darker twin as it dislocated.

* * *

Connor's vision dimmed as he was being strangled. All he could hear was the hum of blood rushing in his head. Suddenly the grip on his throat is gone. He gasped, recovering his senses in turn. First sight, then... A horrible scream and from Murphy's room. Connor knew what it would take to get a scream like that from his brother. He struggled violently against his restraints.

"You leave 'em d'hell alone! Murph! Murphy?!" Connor raged. Then the punches and kicks started and Connor couldn't breathe enough to scream.

* * *

Murphy gasped for air as the man who'd been attacking him let up long enough so he could shake his hands off from the hits he'd delivered. In the break, Murphy could hear the men in the other room beating Connor as his twin called for him. He caught his breath long enough to throw curses and insults at the men as he thrashes against his bonds. "Don't ya touch him, ya sons'a-!" A right hook cut him off, only to encourage him as he spat blood. "Go ta hell, all o' ya!"

The man glared at him, obviously annoyed by the insults. He attacked Murphy with a vengeance. "Shut up!" he growled as he laid into Murphy's ribs.

All the while, the Saint only thought of his brother, trying to encourage him. "Connor! Juss hold on, Connor!"

* * *

Connor was defenseless against the onslaught. Hits to his face, ribs, legs. Punches and kicks. Blood poured from his mouth. Connor felt himself wanting to give up, but Murphy's voice gave him strength. "Mur-" Coughing interrupted him. Then another punch. "You too, Murphy!" A solid punch struck his torso. He felt a rib crack.

* * *

Murphy tried to call back, but a fist met his damaged shoulder, tearing another scream from him. The sounds from the other room coming from Connor blocked the pain, though and only angered Murphy more. "Is... Is that all ya got! C'mon an' hit me" he taunted, trying to keep focus on him instead of Connor. His taunts only angered the man further, earning more forceful blows.

* * *

Connor could hear Murphy's screams and taunting. It took his mind off of the pain being inflicted on him. "Leave 'em d'hell alone!" His protest was met with a powerful right hook. The blow sent Connor, chair and all, to the floor with a loud scraping clatter. Then the kicks really started.

* * *

Murphy heard a crash from Connor's room, putting every nerve on end. "Connor! Con! Are ya alright?" Murphy screamed for him, worried about his brother.

Before he could call out again, a hand took hold of his damaged shoulder and squeezed forcefully, cutting him off. "You just won't shut up, will you?" the man asked.

Murphy was left gasping in pain as the hand clamped down on the injury. "Mmhh! I'm gonna kill ya all! I'm gonna- Mmhh!"

Annoyed at Murphy's insults, the man shoved the gag back into his mouth, tying it behind his head in an effort to quiet the fiery Saint.

* * *

The man had worn himself out kicking and paced before Connor. Blood pooled in Connor's mouth. He wasn't moving anymore. The pain in his chest was too much to spit the blood out, let alone call out to Murphy again. His face rested on the cement floor. He groaned, "Whatd'ya want?"

The Italian stopped in front of Connor, kneeling close to his bloodied face. "I want...a Rolls-Royce, but that's hardly relevant." He stood and kicked Connor in the ribs again.

The Saint didn't move or make a sound. He hadn't even felt the kick.

* * *

Murphy snarls at the Italian who was attacking his shoulder. The sound of heavy thuds coming from the other room that could only be coming from Connor. Murphy's icy blue eyes glared up at his at his captor, daring him. The man grinned back at him in response and Murphy lifts his chin, defiantly.

Angered at the Saint's pure will, the man lays into the shoulder, forcing Murphy to cry out at each blow, muffled, much like when Connor had broken his hand in the basement. Each blow was a stab of a blade, sharp, angry agony, ripping pathetic sounds from Murphy's raw throat.

* * *

Connor came back to himself at the sound of screaming. He craned his head toward the door where Murphy's pained cries reminded him of another basement they'd been to. "Murphy..." He groaned, unable to call louder. A sputtering cough gripped him. Murphy's screams echoed in the hall. Connor mustered all his strength to call out to him.

"Anacht láidir, deartháir!" Stay strong, brother!

The man beating Connor stooped down, took a handful of hair. He wrenched Connor's face toward his. Connor forced himself through the effort of looking him in the eye. The Italian's accent was thick with anger.

"One more word about your brother and I'll break your jaw and cut his hand of Justice off. Do you understand?"

Connor swallowed, willing away tears. He just nodded his understanding and grit his teeth against another kick.

* * *

Murphy was holding on to awareness by the skin of his teeth. Everything ached and the darkness called to him, but he willed it away, needing to stay awake for Connor. The man who'd been working him over had decided to take a break and had left the room in order to talk to the man beating on Connor.

Murphy tried to listen in to what they were saying, but the roaring in his ears drowned out all noise. The roar only intensified as they dragged in Connor's bloody and beaten body a few moments later, leaving him at Murphy's feet. The darker twin was left alone with his brother, bound, gagged and helpless as he called out his twin's name, praying he would wake up. "Cnnrrr! Cnnn!"

The roar even covered up the sounds of his own screams.


	3. Awake and Afraid

_Candra's Note: Hey, guys! Here's the next chapter. If you thought the first two were bad... be warned. It's just the beginning. Now have fun and I advise you find some chocolate for your feels when you get done with this installment. Also, tell us what you think, please. Reviews makes us poor authors happy._

_Shoutout to: reedus fan and BBC for the epic reviews! _

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_**Chapter Three: Awake and Afraid**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

When his eyes fluttered open Connor wasn't sure how long he blacked out for. He blinked blood out of his eyes and realized he wasn't in his room anymore. He was free of that chair, laying on a cement floor at his brother's feet. Murphy sat in his own chair watching the men leave. His brother's eyes was on them, but his voice was crying his name. Connor heard the door shut and lock. Murphy's eyes turned back to him, finding eye contact. Connor started to say his name but coughed blood instead.

Murphy's attention snapped back to Connor as soon as the men left. Seeing his twin laying on the floor, bruised and coughing harshly made Murphy fight. He yanked at his bonds, trying to jerk his arms over the back of his chair. His damaged shoulder allowed him to painfully rip free from the furniture. Murphy fell to his knees next to Connor's head, groaning against the fabric in his mouth, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes for Connor's sake. "Mmm.. .Cnnrr... Mmmm srrryy..."

Connor looked with bleary eyes into Murphy's matching pair. He managed to clear his throat somewhat, though his voice was still rough and choked, "It's not yer fault, brudder... Are y'alright?" Connor struggled to hold back another coughing fit. But couldn't.

Murphy nodded immediately, not even considering how he felt. It didn't _matter_ how he felt. What _mattered_ was that Connor needed to hear that he was fine and that's what he'd get. Trying to provide some small comfort to his brother, Murphy laid out on his side on the cold, hard floor, despite his aching ribs and throbbing shoulder.

Connor cleared his throat again, his voice weak, raspy with the blood in his mouth. "Really, Murph? Dontcha..." Another cough and the pain stopped him. He pressed his forehead to his brother's shoulder. Connor ignored the pain to lift his chin and looked his twin in the eyes. His voice was sad, "Dontcha go lying ta me... Are y'hurt bad?"

Murphy managed to hide the wince of pain that flashed over his dark features when Connor rested against his shoulder. He'd never in a million years tell Connor to get off of him, not matter how badly it hurt. Connor needed the comfort. He considered lying, but knew better. Connor always knew when he was lying. So Murphy shrugged again, avoiding the question entirely, again forcing back a grimace from the use of his shoulder. His eyes lock to Connor's matching pair before he said something that _did_ matter. " Roughh oohh..."

Connor's eyes grew sadder, detecting the pain in Murphy's face when he attempted to shrug. "I love you too, Murphy. Let's try ta get that gag outta yer mouth..." Connor tried to sit up, but started coughing again and had to stop. His eyes held an apology.

Murphy instantly moved closer to Connor's side. He needed to help get him up. Using his good shoulder, he slipped it under his brother's. Using what strength he had left, he began to lift, providing Connor with the support he needed to get up. He tried to keep the pain from his face at the strain he was putting his dislocated shoulder under as together, they get Connor to a sitting position. Both twins heaved for air as Murphy asked his brother, "Oooh roughkay?" trying to find out if he was alright.

Connor had his eyes closed against the pain. He leaned against the nearest wall and nodded to answer his brother. "For the most part, Murph." He cleared his throat again. Sitting helped stop him from choking on the blood in his mouth, which seems to be tapper now. "Here, lean closer Murph, lemme try ta get the gag off." He used his teeth to pull the fabric loose enough to get it out of Murphy mouth.

Murphy shook his head free of the gag, gasping for air. "I'm..." He took a deep breath, trying to get control of his panicked breath. The smothering feeling of the gag had been absolutely terrifying. He was grateful that Connor was able to free him of the restriction. When he could breath evenly again, "I'm gonna kill em fer dis!"

Connor's awareness lulled a moment. His chin dipped to chest and up again. Eyes closed as he mumbled, "I know y'will, Murph... We both will."

A rush of terror washed over Murphy as Connor faltered. Worried about a concussion, he tried to get him to respond. "C-Connor?" he stammered. His mouth was dry from the gag. He licked his lips and tried again. "Connor, ya gotta stay wit' me, ya hear? Look at ol' Murph."

Connor blinked his eyes open. They wandered a little before setting on Murphy's eyes. He took in a short breath, "Mm... M-murph...?"

Murphy nodded and pressed closer to Connor's side. Not only did he want to offer his twin comfort, but he needed the contact to know his brother was still with him. "I'm here. I'm here, Con."

Connor rested his cheek against Murph's shoulder. He allowed himself to relax in contact with his brother. Connor's eyes stared blankly at the floor. "D'yah think they're juss gonna... gradually beat us ta death?"

"I-I-I don't know, Connor," Murphy admitted quietly as he rested his head on top of Connor's. "Not if I can help it. We juss gotta stay strong an' stay awake, right?"

Connor released a deep sigh. His voice was low and pained, like talking was a torture in itself. "Alright, Murphy... I'll stick with you." He took a careful, deep breath and groaned quietly. Connor allowed a moment to pass then he spoke with a sad, defeated tone. "What d'we do now?"

Murphy blinked at his brother, taken aback by his quiet tone. The fact that Connor was asking him what they should do scared him a little. "Yer always da one with da plan..." It was then Murphy realized with with dread, that Connor was in a bad way and needed him to take control for the moment. "I... s'pose we try ta get da zip ties off, yeah?" he asked, timid and unsure of himself.

"Mmm... Dat's a good plan, Murph..." Connor took another tentative deep breath and wearily searched the room with blurry vision. "Don't s'ppose y've got something sharp 'round here? Somethin' to saw away at the plastic. Glass, or anythin'...?"

Murphy shook his head wearily, smiling painfully at the situation. "Hey, Con," Murphy tried to converse with his brother, trying to anchor him to consciousness, "Bet my Rambo knife is soundin' _real_ good right now, don'tchya think?"

Connor smiled, even laughed a little, with eyes half-closed. "Yeh, Murph...dat silly thing would come in very handy right about now." He drew a halting breath and grimaced.

Murphy felt worry churn in his stomach. "Connor? Ya wit' me?" he called out softly. When he didn't get a reply, he prodded further. "C'mon, Con. I know yer havin' a bad day, but ya gotta stay up"

The fact that Connor's eyes were closing scared him more than anything. Murphy hated pulling this card, but if it would keep Connor with him, he was willing to do anything. "Ya can't leave me by meself wit' these guys. Ya gotta stay awake. For me, brudder... Please?"

At hearing Murphy's plea Connor squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them he was more alert. He looked at Murphy with more intensity than he'd previously managed. "No way... in hell...I'll leave yah wit' 'em alone. W...we're in dis...together, Murphy."

Murphy wanted to tell Connor that he loved him, that no matter what happened, they'd be there for each other. But he never got the chance. "Connor, I-"

The door behind them opened, interrupting the darker twin. Three men came in. Panza was in the lead, followed closely by his two followers that had been beating the twins earlier. The one in the rear held up a camera, filming the gruesome events that were to follow. They came close to the huddled brothers.

Connor glared through the blood on his face at the man with the camera. "What d'hell y'got dat fer? Y'already missed da action."

Panza smirked and grabbed the darker twin by the hair. He pulled Murphy away from Connor without hesitation or comment. Connor's face wiped to panic, desperate to help his brother. "No, don't! Wait... I... I'm sorry... Murph!"

The man who had beat Connor earlier grabbed him by his hair. He forced the fairer twin to look at him. His face held a sick amusement that was reflected in his voice, "What did I say about whining for your brother?"

Connor's face blanked with terror. He heard that voice in his head repeating the threat._ One more word about your brother and I'll break your jaw and cut off his hand of Justice..._ A mere whisper of prayer escaped Connor's tight throat, "Oh God...no..."

The man grinned before roughly shoving Connor back against the wall, releasing his grip on the fairer twin's hair. "'Get this on film," he commanded the man with the camera as he goes to where Panza had Murphy penned on the floor.

"Hold him down," Panza directed the man who had just joined him.

The man who'd threatened Connor took Panza's place, holding a struggling Murphy to the ground as Panza pulled out a large knife. His eyes met Connor's across the room, daring him to make a sound. His lips turned up at the corners into a wicked smirk when he saw the terror in the Irishman's eyes.

Connor looked away from those hateful eye, into his brother's. He whispered, crushed, "Tá brón orm, tá mé mar sin leithscéal..." _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._.. Connor just held his eyes on Murphy, terrified. He waited, not saying a word. He knew there was nothing he could do or say to stop this.

Murphy laid, pressed to the ground onto his damaged ribs under a man's crushing weight. He craned his neck to look at the side to Connor's wide, terrified eyes. He hated the guilt he saw there. None of this was his fault. "A ceart go leor, Connor." _Its alright Connor,_ he assured his twin.

A hand fisted in his dark hair, yanking, forcing him to look forward at the camera while Panza cut the zip-ties from his wrists. He tried to lash out but was subdued too quickly. His hand was held outstretched, knife poised about the tender flesh of his wrist...

Connor's breath sped up. He looked from Murphy to Panza and back rapidly. Tears stung his eyes. But he remained silent, waiting in horror...

Panza raised the blade, attention solely trained on Murphy has he brought the blade down in one, fluid motion, causing the darker twin to flinch in fear. The edge of the knife paused, just above Murphy rope-raw skin. Panza looked to Connor, gaze dark. "Let this be a lesson. Now I have to punish him for your mouth," he informed Connor.

Instead of hacking off Murphy's hand, he twisted the Saint's wrist at an awkward angle, allowing him access to his Aequitas tattoo. He then began to dig the tip of the blade into the inked flesh, carving the word there on his finger. Murphy gasped in pain once before pushing it away. He struggled against their hold on him, but bit his lip to keep from crying out and worrying Connor.

Connor's eyes are fixed on Murphy's face. His tears fall freely. Connor felt crushed, defeated. But worse than that was the guilt he held for what was happening to Murphy. Connor whispered his apology in Gaelic over and over, with Murphy's pained breaths as his only reply.


	4. Carved and Conscious

_Candra's Note: I just wanna say thank you to all the reviewers! Those things are my crack! So I felt bad leaving you like I did and so we worked on this late into the night just for you. Feel loved. And btw, I'm gonna be gone for ten days... Yeah, Murphy me is getting kidnapped for a while. To the Grand Canyon. And Vegas. So... this a cliff hanger..._

_VeritasVamp: Thank you guys SO MUCH for the reviews and all! I have been having so much fun reading them. Just as I've been having a blast writing this with Candra! I can't believe that we wrote the whole first draft through Twitter direct message as character improvs. I'm loving it! Oh, and Connor-Me is FREAKING OUT that Candra/Murphy is being taken away for 10 days. Think...toilet scene. MURPH!_

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_**Chapter Four: Carved and Conscious **_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

Though the hand knotted in his hair forced Murphy's face to look forward at the camera, his eyes wandered to the side to Connor. He tried to convey in a look that he was okay as he tried to buck the men off of him. However, they only let up on Murphy when each letter of Aequitas had been traced.

When they were finished, Panza produced another zip-tie and rebound Murphy's hands behind his back as his finger bled. The grip on his hair remained as Panza got in his face so the camera could hear him clearly when he spat, "Compliments of the Roman." With that, he delivered a merciless kick to Murphy's ribs before leaving with the other men, locking the door behind them.

Connor ignored his injuries and maneuvered himself close to Murphy. It took a lot of effort and the pain in his ribs was brutal. The action triggered another coughing fit. He calmed the coughing enough to speak through the tears that accompanied it, "I'm sorry, Murphy. I'm so sorry..."

Murphy trembled. His muscles spasmed, the pain too much to hide from Connor. He blinked back tears as he assured his brother, "I'm fine. It's not your fault. Don't hurt yerself for me," he added, seeing Connor struggling over to him, hating that his injured brother just couldn't stay put and not hurt himself further.

Connor's tears fell, but his voice was steady. "It is my fault. He said if I called for you one more time he'd break my jaw and cut off your hand. They must still need us...intact." Connor wanted to take Murphy's had in his, or grip his arm. But the zip-ties held firm, digging into his skin creating new scars over the old ones.

"I'm fine, Con," Murphy said in a shaky voice, trying to get rid of Connor's fears." Ya didn't do a thing wrong..." He took a deep breath, attempting to push down the pain.

Connor decided to mirror Murphy's calming behavior. He took as deep of a breath as he could manage. He relaxed, somewhat. "Well, I'll just be more careful next time...not ta piss 'em off like that."

Murphy snorted with laughter, voice shaky with pain when he teased his brother. "Y-You'll b-be more c-c-careful next time." he stammered, voice cut off by a nasty coughing fit.

Connor smiled despite it all. "Leave it ta yah...ta turn dis into a joke." His laugh turned into a cough, but not as violent this time. "How's yer hand? They didn't cut deep, did they?"

Murphy shook his head slowly. "I... I dunno," he admitted. "Didn't see it. If I... flip over will ya... take a look at it?"

Connor shifted his position, grunting through the pain as he did. "Yeh Murph, let us take a look..." Connor braced himself for what he might see. He held his breath as Murphy prepared to roll over.

Murphy groaned as he managed to roll to his side, arms pulled behind his back as he exposed his wound to Connor. He didn't really want him to see the damage, but he knew Connor would worry if he didn't let him see it. "How bad?" Murphy asked, a little afraid of the answer.

Connor gritted his teeth and exhaled. "Could be worse." Connor was relieved, he was expecting worse. "It looks like da bleedin' is stoppin'. Must not've cut too deep." He was reluctant to ask the next question, but he needed to know. "How do I look, Murph...?"

Dreading answering his twin, Murphy forced his body to move as he flipped back over to look at Connor. Sadness filled his eyes when he took in his brother's state. "Ye look a bit rough, Con. It's da fact ya keep noddin' off dat scares me. And dat cough... Ya tastin' blood? How are yer ribs?"

Connor groaned, relaxing against the cold cement floor. "My lip was bleedin' inside me mouth... I kept chokin' on the blood. Seems ta be lettin' up now though." He grunted through a few breaths. "My ribs...they...they hurt pretty bad, Murph. I couldn't spit the blood out 'cause it hurt too much. Don't t'ink I'll nod off now, after what juss happened."

Murphy frowned as he lay on his back, hands awkwardly trapped under the curve of his spine as he pressed the material of his shirt to his bloody finger. "I'm sorry, Connor. I'm so sorry for all of this..."

Connor shifted his weight, trying to find a position that hurt the least. He gave up on that quickly, the effort being more painful than just laying still. Connor smirked sadly at Murphy's words. He resting his eyes for a moment. "What d'hell yah apologizin' fer, Murphy? T'ain't none o' dis yer fault."

"Ya shouldn't have dragged yer sorry carcass over here if yer hurtin'," Murphy explained his inner turmoil. He didn't want Connor hurting himself any more than he already was just to check on him. "Should've stayed against da wall."

Connor pressed his lips into a sad smile. Murphy's attitude amused Connor, regardless of the grim setting. The fairer Saint turned his head to look more directly at his twin, whose eyes were closed against the pain. "I had ta make sure you were alright, didn't I? S'nothin'...don't worry 'bout it."

Murphy needed to get up. He needed to show Connor that he was alright. He didn't want his brother to worry about him when he should be worried about himself. Though his muscles protested the action, Murphy attempted to sit up. He couldn't, however. Everything hurt entirely too much and his shoulder just wouldn't allow it. He fell back into his penned hands, huffing for air. "C-Course... I'm gonna... worry..." he muttered through the pain.

Connor's smile fell. He couldn't stand to see his brother in such pain. Witnessing Murphy unable to sit up weighed heavy on his heart. "Well y'shouldn't worry," he stated plainly. Connor positioned himself closer to Murphy to get his shoulder under his brother's uninjured one to help him sit up. "Come on, brudder..."

Surprising Connor, Murphy pulled away quickly from his twin's touch. He knew Connor was hurt and he didn't want to injure him further just to get vertical. It wasn't worth it. So he shied away from his brother, trying not to see the hurt in Connor's eyes at the action. He needed an excuse. "Juss... juss givemme a minute... ta catch me breath..."

Connor searched Murphy's features a moment, still shocked his brother had pulled away from him. But then he understood. Connor curled to lay on his side, the position being the most comfortable he could find. He rested his head on the floor near Murphy. "Alright brudder, catch yer breath."

Murphy tilted to the side so he could face Connor, taking comfort in the fact that he was awake and with him, not showing any of the signs of nodding off that he had, earlier. However, Murphy was having a hard time holding on to consciousness, himself, the pain from his finger and shoulder making his vision falter. "Con, talk ta me," he instructed his twin. "Keep me up... can't leave ya alone..."

Connor rested beside Murph, watching the pain play on his face. His lips tightened with his own pain, the sight of Murphy struggling to stay conscious. Connor kept his tears from his voice. There was no need to put more strain on Murphy by letting him hear how upset he was. "Alright Murph... What d'yah s'ppose was wit' dem filmin' us?"

Murphy is able to root himself at the sound of Connor's voice. He could hear the sadness in his twin's tone, but he tried to put it out of his mind as he answered the question as best he could. "I... I think they're gonna... gonna show 'em ta someone," he admitted, dreading the idea of anyone seeing the weakness... "One o' our... guys on da force? Or Da? They said somethin' bout a Roman... Didn't Da say somethin' bout a Roman? In Ireland?"

Connor relaxed his eyes a moment, letting them close. "Mmm, dat could be. I seem ta remember dat... But dats better den what I t'ought..." Having thought they meant to kill them on film, a Saint snuff film... He shook the idea from his mind. When he looked back at his brother Connor saw Murphy's eyes wander blankly to the ceiling. He let his voice hold his fear, "Hey...Murph... Come on. I'm right here brudder. Right here."

Connor calling him back made Murphy shake from his stupor. He hated the sound of fear in Connor's voice. He hated even more that he was the cause for it. "Sorry... Sorry, Con... Juss... really tired. I'm here," he assured his panicking brother in a soft voice.

Connor relaxed a little at hearing Murphy's voice sound more clear than he was expecting. "S'alright...so am I, Murph...so am I." Connor knew that Murphy needed to think about something other than their circumstances. He needed to think about getting out. And Connor was the man with the plans... "I'm tryin' ta think of a way outta here. Juss stay wit' me, brudder."

Murphy rolled a little, needing Connor with him. He leaned backwards, his back just meeting Connor's chest, head tucked under his brother's chin as he stared at their prison's walls. "I'm here. I'm not gonna leave ya. Sorry, Con. Didn't... didn't mean ta scare ya," he whispered as he listened to the steadying sound of Connor's heart beat, the vibrations of the rhythm pounding against his back.

Connor puts his forehead against Murphy's head. Just that small amount of contact calmed him more than anything else had so far. "S'alright, Murph. Yer juss getting even wit' me fer earlier, aren'tcha?" He smiled only briefly. He tried to reassure himself just as much as his brother. "We'll be juss fine..."

Lulled by the lullaby of Connor's heart, Murphy could feel sleep attempting to claim him. He jerked his body a little, trying to force himself away. He knew he needed to move, to get up. He knew he'd need Connor's help for that. And though he didn't want to hurt his brother, he didn't want to leave him alone, either. That wasn't even an option. "Con, I gotta get up," Murphy admitted. He tried to sit once more on his own, wanting to spare Connor as much as he could, but he failed, yet again crashing back to the ground.

Connor prepared to help Murphy up. He knew it would hurt, but it would be worth it to be able to help his brother in this small way. "Okay, come on... Lean against me, Murph." His twin hesitated and Connor understood way. "Come on brudder, don't worry 'bout me, let's get you up." Murphy allowed him to get a shoulder under him. Connor gritted his teeth against the pain as he helped Murphy get turned over and his knees under him.

Murphy found that breathing was easier on his knees. The rush of oxygen to his lungs managed to clear most of the darkness hedging at his vision. He turned his attention to Connor, worried that accepting his help had injured his brother further. "Con, ya okay?" he asked as he bent closer to his twin, using his shoulder to give him a boost to a sitting position. Their ankles, still bound by thick rope didn't help the process at all.

Connor tried to hide a grimace of pain as he got situated on his own knees. "Yeh, I'm fine..." He turned his eyes to his brother's, searching them. "Yer favoring yer shoulder, Murph. What's wrong? I heard yah scream before... Yah okay?" Connor's eyes stayed on Murphy's pained expression.

Murphy refused to look at his brother, his mind going back to when his shoulder had been ripped from the socket. He didn't want to tell Connor what had happened. He didn't want him to worry every time he had to help him up. So he skirted around the issue, wanting to protect his brother. "Yeah... don't worry bout it, Con. You're just as banged up," Murphy said quietly.

Connor struggled to prop himself up beside his brother. "Aye, I s'ppose so. What a pair we are..." He groaned and settled into his new position. "So yah t'ink they'll send da film to Da?"

Murphy nodded, the motion making his head ache. "Yeah somethin like dat," Murphys didn't want to admit the next part, because that would be acknowledging the fact things were only going to get worse. "I'm bettin' they're gonna use us against him somehow... ya think Da will go for it?"

Connor sighed, releasing a short laugh at the thought. "I t'ink if Da does go fer it they won't live long enough to regret it..." Connor believed that Da would come to find them. He need Murphy to believe it too. "I know he'll come fer us, Murph."

Murphy hated to say what he had to next. But he needed to prepare Connor... incase things went badly... "I agree wit ya dat he'll come," Murphy mumbled, hating the feeling of his mouth forming the next words he spoke. "But I'm worried he won't be fast enough. I'm also worried that... that they'll film again..."

Connor wished he could grip his brother's undamaged hand. He closed his eyes. It pained him to say it, but he did, "They will film again, Murph... We'll juss hafta stay strong." He felt his breath quicken at the realization.

Panic rose in Murphy chest as he leaned back into Connor, his bound hands fisting in his brother's shirt, trying to gain some form of small comfort. "I can't let em hurt ya, Con. Can't watch dat..." His breaths came faster, terror taking place in his bright blue eyes.

Connor's brows furrowed in sorrow. He wished he could put his arms around his brother, but the zip-ties held firm. He hated feeling so powerless. "An' I can't watch 'em hurt yah either, Murph..." Connor hanged his head, fighting tears from the memory of Murphy being punished for his mouth. "But when I tried ta protest they only hurt yah more..." Connor's tears fell, despite his effort to hide them.

Murphy frowned at his brother's tears. "Hey, I told ya I'm fine," he said in a light tone. He nudged Connor with his shoulder, trying to make his twin happier. He instantly regretted it, though when pain shot through him, having accidentally used his dislocated shoulder. "Mm!" groaned. He mumbled under his breath, thinking more out loud than meaning to speak. "Gotta get dat back in place..."

Connor flinched, instantly worried about the pain his brother was in. He shifted to look Murphy in the eyes, "Tell me how ta help yah, Murph..." He knew that this was only the beginning of what they would suffer at Panza's hand, and he still didn't fully understand why. "We gotta fix each other up as much as possible between..." He couldn't finish the statement, turning the conversation back to the original concern. "Well, how can I help yah?"

Murphy shook his head, taking in a deep breath to expel the pain. "I... I dunno Con. Doubt ya can pop a dislocated shoulder back inta place with yer hands tied," Murphy said quietly, finally confirming the severity of his injury.

The fairer Saint leaned his head to the side, against wall. Connor was frustrated, yet again, by how helpless he was to help ease his brother's pain and worry. "No, I s'ppose not..." Then his own concerns surface. "Y'think Da will bring help? I mean, six guns is only so good from one position." The sudden thought of Da getting gunned down, leaving them alone and with no hope of rescue sent a chill down his spine.

Murphy rested his heavy head on Connor's shoulder, feeling the heat of his brother's body. "Da knows what he's doin'," Murphy pointed out. "We juss gotta make sure that when he shows up, dat we're here waitin for em." He couldn't even think about Connor... Connor dying here...

Connor rested his head against Murphy's. He had to shake the fear settling around his heart. The image of Da dead... Or, Murphy. "Aye, dat we'll do..." he responded to his brother. Connor continued in an effort to lift the dread closing in around him. "We're gettin' outta dis, brudder. We're not dyin' here...not like dis."

Suddenly, the door flew open. The three men were back, the one in the back once again filming. Murphy's nightmare came true as they ignored him and Panza walked towards them with purpose, dark eyes trained only on Connor. In that moment, he wished it could be him... him that they wanted to torture on film. So that way, it wouldn't be Connor.

Connor's eyes looked up at the approaching men. He tried to keep the fear off his features. Connor drew his knees in protectively, unable to defend himself in any other way. He couldn't take his attention off the Italian heading straight toward him. He just whispered, grimly, "Juss let it happen, Murph..." Then his breath caught in his battered lungs.

Murphy didn't say a word. He wanted to rage against these men, but he knew better from what had happened to Connor before. He wanted more than anything to be able to kill them all, just to keep his brother safe. But he couldn't. All he could do was instinctively place his legs in front of Connor trying to shield him, as if that would stop this from happening.

He knew better than to speak aloud. But he couldn't stop the quiet prayer slip from his lips. " No. Please, God, no..."


	5. Bars and Beatings

_Candra's Note: I'm back from the horrid road trip! I survived the Russians! Before I thank you all for the lovely reviews, I'd like to steal a few seconds of your day to brag a little. On 7/26/2013, Sean Patrick Flanery followed me on twitter. I had suffered through a horrible day and had posted about how the only thing that would make it better would be a follow from him. Not three seconds later, I get the notification on my phone that I had a new follower. Okay, happy-rant done. Enjoy your feels._

_VeritasVamp: T__hank you all for your awesome reviews! I'm loving this so much! And in regard to Candra's note... I was privileged enough to be on Skype video chat with her when she got her Twitter notification. Much fun was had after that. Now... brace yourself for what you're about to read..._

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_** Chapter Five: Bars and Beatings**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

The two men took hold of Connor by each arm. Panza stood by, smirking at the twins. Connor knew he couldn't escape, so he didn't try. They yanked him away from Murphy, dragging him into the center of the room. He never looked away from Murphy. Connor's eyes betrayed his fear as he tried to calm his brother. "S'okay brudder..."

Murphy bit down hard on his tongue to keep from calling out as they put Connor on his knees in the middle of the dark room. He wanted to speak to him, to comfort him in some small way, but he feared what they would do to his twin if he spoke out of turn. So he refrained from speaking, tears streaming freely down his face as they turned the camera on his brother.

Connor nearly fell forward to the floor when they threw him to his knees. He glanced back to Murphy before his eyes flicked between the two men. He ignored the man with the camera in his face. While he was scared, he wanted to show Murphy he could handle it. He mustered what bravery he could and fixed his eyes on Panza's. "So what are..." Then Connor saw the crowbar in Panza's hand. He saw Panza notice his reaction and the wicked smile that came with seeing Connor's fear resurface. Then he felt his blood run cold.

Murphy heard his twin trail off from whatever he was going to say. Then he saw the reason why. A long, iron crowbar was clutched in Panza's hand. the very sight of it, the knowledge of what it was going to be used for, made Murphy's stomach churn in fear. Still, he managed to keep himself quiet, knowing it would only be worse if he spoke. He made himself sit still, cool blue eyes taking in the horror of what was to happen.

Connor gripped his hands together easing some of the pain from the zip-ties cutting into his wrists. Panza spun the crowbar in a circle from the hooked end, like it were an umbrella. He crossed behind Connor, whose eyes followed the threat. Connor held his breath, suffering the horrible anticipation in silence.

Panza laughed a low, taunting way. "I'm impressed at your new found self control. But it won't stop this..."

Connor felt his heart skip a beat in fear as Panza raised the crowbar with the hook high in the air. He swung the crowbar down, crashing the flat side into Connor's upper back. Connor cried out, the blow sending him to the floor. Connor lay on his bruised chest and cracked ribs as Panza slammed the crowbar into his back again. And again... The Saint screamed in agony the first few times, but then he just couldn't anymore.

Murphy didn't even try to hold back anymore. He couldn't, seeing his twin beaten so severely was more than he could take. Hands and ankles still bound, he attempted to worm his way across the cold concrete floor to where his brother's beaten body lie. When he knew he couldn't make it, he cried out, "Connor, Tá brón orm! Tá mé anseo, deartháir!" _Connor I'm sorry! Stay with me!_ in the hope that it would give his brother strength.

Connor heard Murphy call to him in Gaelic. It gave him something to focus on other than the iron rain down on his back. It was the worst beating yet, but the fairer brother could tell Panza wasn't hitting as hard as he could. This beating wasn't meant to kill him. Connor forced his eyes open. They were locked on Murphy's as the last few blows fell. His voice was small, pained. "Murph..."

Though Murphy hadn't gotten very close to his brother in his effort to get beside him, Panza had him shoved further away. Laughing, the three left the room. Panza was swinging his crowbar in circles casually. Connor wasn't moving. His eyes weren't even open.

Murphy's heart pounded against his sore ribs when he saw the state his twin was left in. He attempted to struggle to his side, his bound limbs and injuries making the pace agonizingly slow. "Connor!" he rasped, trying to keep his brother's attention. "Connor, I'm so sorry! Please, brudder, talk to me!"

Connor managed to partly open his eyes. It took a moment for them to focus, finding Murphy's. His brother had maneuvered himself beside him. Connor wondered how he had done that so fast, then realized he had probably blacked out briefly. His breathing was ragged. His voice came as if it were a groan. "Good thing...my hands are...tied behind me. Protected my spine. Murph...? I hope Da get's here soon..." Darkness pushed at the corner of his vision. Connor closed his eyes.

Murphy was angry. Angry at these men for daring to hurt his brother. Angry at their father for taking his sweet time to come help them. Angry at his Heavenly Father for allowing this to happen to the person he loved most. And most of all, angry at himself for not being able to do a _single_ thing. His anger came out at Connor. "Shut the hell up, Connor! Ya shut up an' ya stay awake!" He took a deep breath to calm himself when his brother flinched at his harsh tone. " Please stay awake... for me..."

Connor groaned, having a hard time focusing beyond the pain throbbing from his back and shoulders. Murphy yelled at him. That seemed to help. Then his brother's voice was soft, pleading for him to stay awake. He'd do anything for Murphy. Connor forced his eyes open. He gasped a breath and prayed not to cough. He wanted to make Murphy understand he was okay, that it looked worse than it was. "Guess yer da...most attractive... MacManus now, eh?" Connor grimaced in pain when he couldn't stop the cough that racked his battered chest.

Murphy managed to smile through the tears streaming down his face. He knew Connor was trying to get him to calm down, always protecting him, even in this small way. He went along with it, for Connor's sake. "What do ya mean by 'now'? I always was!" His playful mood slipped away instantly when another wet cough racked Connor's body. "Connor, can I help ya? Let me... do something! Anything!" he pleaded, needing to not feel so helpless.

It broke Connor's heart to hear Murphy so upset about him. He wanted to let Murphy help him, but he didn't know how. There was only one thing he could think of that would help. Connor swallowed and pressed his lips together in pain. "Juss...stay by me Murph..." Tears fall down his expressionless face.

Murphy used his good shoulder to wriggle on the floor closer to Connor. When he settled next to his twin, their bound legs brushing against each other, Murphy went to war with the zip-ties that sliced at his raw skin again. He wanted to be free _now_ if only to comfort Connor with a brotherly touch. But the fighting only made his wrists bleed more and he had to settle with speaking to his brother. "I love ya, Connor. I'm so sorry I couldn't help ya. Theyda hurt ya more..." Murphy still didn't feel like that was good enough of an excuse, but it was all he had.

Connor blinked the tears out of his eyes. He hated that Murphy was seeing him like this. Not for pride, but because he knew that it would worry him. He saw Murphy struggle with the zip-ties and knew what the motion would do to his brother's wrists. He winced at the thought. Then Murphy apologized. "I know Murph...s'alright. Yah did great... Must've...been hard fer yah." Connor tested a deep breath. It ended in a grunt. "I'll be...juss fine."

"It was hard," Murphy agreed. "But not near as bad as what ya went through." He took a deep breath, trying to get control of his raging emotions. The fear for Connor... The anger at the world... All of it. But none of that mattered. What mattered was Connor and what he was feeling. Murphy just wanted to help him, to make him more comfortable. "Can we get ya up or do ya wanna lay some more?"

Connor considered Murphy's question. Despite the terrible pain from his latest beating, Connor hated that he was laying face down on a basement floor. If he was going to die here, he wanted to do it with as much dignity as he could. He spoke around shallow grunting exhales. "Let's...try ta...get me on my knees...at least."

Connor knew that Murphy would feel better helping him, so he accepted the assistance. In truth, he wouldn't have been able to get upright without his twin. Connor fought through the pain of slowly getting up on his knees. It took a lot of effort not to cry out as his wounds protested the movement.

Murphy's heart clenched at the sight of pain on his brother's face. He did his best to ignore it as he helped Connor to his knees, paying no mind to the stress that his damage shoulder was put under doing so. By the time they got Connor situated, they were both panting for breath. The muffled sounds of pain Connor was trying to hide made Murphy's soul ache. "Con... I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, Con."

"S'okay Murph, yah did great...juss great." He paused to catch his breath. "Yah did everythin' yah coulda done." He was grateful for Murphy's help and knew that it would have hurt him too. But Connor didn't want his brother to focus on him. He needed Murphy to focus on himself. So he changed the subject on him. "How's yer hand feelin', Murph?"

Murphy huffed a little, the action hurting his ribs. Connor was being ridiculous, worrying about him. Still, if that's what Connor wanted, that's what he'd get. He went along with the new topic of conversation. "Don't worry bout me, Connor. M'fine."

Connor tilted his head back relaxing his bruising shoulders. He smirked at his brother. Sitting up made it much easier to breath and therefore easier to talk. "Well, I'd rather worry 'bout you den me, Murph." He exhaled slowly, not sure what would hurt or not. Connor knows it'll be Murphy they come for next, but won't say it.

Murphy knew what it was that Connor was worried about. He knew that they'd be coming back to film, and they knew it would be him that they used. But he didn't care. He welcomed it, actually. As long as it wasn't Connor. Still, he didn't want his twin to be worrying about that, so he did what he did best and joked around. "Hey, you just let me worry bout both of us. Remember, I'm da pretty one."

Connor laughed a short, sad laugh. He didn't let Murphy see how much the laugh hurt him. "T'is true, innit?" But he couldn't shake the thought he had earlier. The one that made him want to get up off the floor. It turned his tone serious. "Murphy...if...if I don't... Juss.. Y'know I'd do anythin' fer yah, right?"

If he didn't... what? Murphy didn't understand what Connor was saying, and that scared him more than anything. He'd always known what Connor was trying to tell him. And if he was honest with himself, he had an idea what Connor was saying now. He just refused to accept it. "Yeah... I know... Con, what are ya thinkin' in dat thick head o yers?"

He hated that he felt the need to say this. But he did. He couldn't get it out of his head... Connor let out a resigned sigh. "Juss...if I don't...y'know...make it. I want yah ta know that I'm alright... 'Cause when they're on me, they're not on you."

That familiar anger surged in Murphy, covering up the pure fear that took over his heart at Connor's words. Tears streamed down his face. "Don't say stupid stuff like dat! Ya must've really taken a hit ta da head, because yer not dyin here!" When he saw the ashamed look on Connor's face, he knew he needed to calm down. Getting riled up wasn't going to help either of them. His tone was softer, "Ya should juss... rest. Try ta doze off a bit... so ya don't have ta be up when they come back."

Connor watched Murph cry, his own tears starting. He felt worse about that than he did after both beatings. The fairer Saint spoke through a tight voice. He wanted to take it all back. "M'sorry Murph... I... I shouldna said dat. I won't go...won't leave yah wit' 'em alone. An' I ain't gonna sleep 'til I know yer safe... I can't."

Murphy was trembling. Whether it was from rage or fear or total helplessness, he didn't know. But he tried his best to hide the tremble in his tight jaw and the shaking of his hands. "That's what I thought. But I'm fine right now," he coaxed his weary brother. "We both are. So just try ta rest up. Ya gotta heal..." Logic. Connor always responded to logic.

Connor noticed Murphy shaking. He wanted to grip his hand or put his arm around him. But knew that wouldn't happen anytime soon. Then Murphy was asking him to rest. It made sense...but he was in so much pain. "Well, maybe if I lie on my side...they didn't get many hits in there. Yah gotta heal too, brudder... Yer gonna get some rest too, right?"

Murphy lied. He lied for Connor's sake, needing his twin to rest. He just wanted Connor to sleep, to be out cold before what was coming so he wouldn't have to watch that. "Right. I'll lay wit ya," he agreed easily, knowing that there was no possible way that he would sleep. Still, his eyes looked up to Connor, silently pleading him to do the same.

"Alright den..." Connor eased himself down as best he could. It didn't hurt as much as getting up had. He adjusted his shoulder and rested his head against the floor, facing Murphy. His eyes found his brother's with a matching sad expression. Connor said the one thing on his mind. The thing that hurt him more than anything..."I wish I could stop what's comin', brudder."

Murphy sniffed and looked away from Connor, unwilling to see the overwhelming sadness in his eyes. He preoccupied himself with pulling at his bonds, his fingers dancing around the plastic that was cutting his wrists open, trying to look busy, unconcerned. "Dunno what yer talkin bout," he denied the fact that he knew very well what Connor was speaking of.

Connor moved to try to get closer to Murphy but instantly regretted it. Pain coursed through his chest and back. He curled in, gritting his teeth. A wave of despair crashed over him. Then all he could think of was... Murphy is next. That thought overwhelmed him more than the pain. His voice broke as he whispered a prayer, "Oh God, please... spare him..."

Murphy sighed when he heard Connor pray for him. He just wanted God to protect Connor, to send an angel to watch over the person he loved the most in this dark hell that they were in. But there was no hope. None that he could see in the black. "Dontchya worry bout me, Connor," he said, taking it upon himself to make the situation better in what way he could. "I'm here. Lets juss... rest." He was so... so tired...

Connor relaxed, the pain finally settling again. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to risk them being caught like that. But he just couldn't to fight the it any longer. He was exhausted and on the brink of agony at any wrong move. So he let his brother's voice and breath calm him enough to close his eyes. "Alright... Juss... Stay close, okay Murphy?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Con," Murphy promised something he may not be able to keep in a whisper. But what else could he do? If he died comforting Connor... He'd be fine with that.

Connor let go of a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He silently thanked God that Murphy was there, then felt bad. He didn't want Murphy here suffering all this with him. But he couldn't help that he was grateful his brother was so close right now. Connor listened to Murphy's breathing, letting sleep draw him in. He was nearly there when he heard footsteps approaching down the hall. Connor was jolted awake. All he could muster was a terrified whisper, "Murphy... No..."

Murphy felt every one of his throbbing muscles tense when he heard his brother's weak voice respond to the echo of footsteps. He curled in on himself instinctually, trying to protect what ribs that weren't damaged. "Don't ya worry, Con," Murphy said with false cheer. "Macho Murph, remember?"

The door opened casually. The three men entered, camera rolling. Connor wanted to shield his brother from their tormentors, but he couldn't barely lift his head off the cement. Connor's voice pitched high with fear. "Murph... Wait, please..."

Murphy didn't even struggle as a hand wrapped around his bicep, yanking him by his aching arms backwards, away from the comfort of his brother's side. He was placed on his knees, barely able to hold himself up as the camera was shoved into his face. He glared at Panza as the Italian pulled the dreaded crowbar out from behind his back.

Murphy just wished that Connor didn't have to see what was about to happen. He wished more than anything that his brother would just black out and not witness the horror that was to come. His eyes left Panza and found Connor, seeing the wide-eyed look of fear that was on his face as tears streamed from his baby blues.

Connor wouldn't allow himself to just lay there as his twin was viciously beaten. The adrenaline surged through him. He used it to force himself back up to his knees. Then he saw the crowbar and it felt like the floor fell out from beneath him. He sent a familiar prayer, "God... No..." Connor found Murphy's eyes. That look... He'd seen it before. When the Russians had taken him from their apartment...

Connor's breath sped up as his anger started to surface. He could hardly express it, but that only seemed to intensify the rage. Panza set the crowbar on Murphy's bad shoulder. Connor tensed when he saw his brother's pain flash across his features. He wanted nothing more than to kill Panza. But he was beginning to doubt he'd see that day.

The heavy weight of the crowbar was rested against Murphy's damaged shoulder. His Irish pride forced himself to look up at Connor, to keep his back straight as he could, to show no fear as he felt the tension in the room. He wanted to defy these men with his last breath, and he would use that last breath to shield Connor from their wrath by taking it himself. "Screw ya," he hissed at Panza, hoping he angered him enough to maintain his full attention.

The Italian laughed darkly at Murphy's attitude. Panza pulled Murphy's head back with a fistful of hair. He put all the malice into his voice, "Anything else you'd like to add before we begin? Now's your chance..."

Murphy's voice was strong and clear. His eyes stared ahead, into Connor's. Being able to see his brother gave him the strength to say, "Yeah... I do..." He didn't even care what would result from what he said next. Whatever it was that would happen, it would be worth it if Panza took it all out on him. Just as long as it would result in protecting Connor. His eyes stayed locked on his twin. "Con an' I can't wait ta see ya die."

At Murphy's words, Connor blinked in fear. His eyes flicked to Panza's face and back to his brother's eyes. He knew what his twin intended by taunting the Italian. He knew, but he dreaded what would come of it. Connor's mouth was open with an unspoken plea on his lips. He looked into Murphy's eyes. Connor took in seeing that strength as if it were for the last time. Panza glared down at Murphy. Raised the crowbar high. Connor's heart dropped when he saw the hateful expression on the Italian's face. He swallowed with a dry throat and whispered, "Murphy..."


	6. Burns and Begging

_Candra's Note: It's 2:35 in the morning. Sorry, mon petite croissants, it's too freaking early to be witty. Have fun with your whump._

_VeritasVamp: Stuff an' thaaangs. The world is too blurry. Enjoy._

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_** Chapter Six: Burns and Begging**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

Panza held the crowbar above Murphy a moment longer. Connor's eyes were on Murphy's and neither were breathing. Then the crowbar slammed into Murphy's back and shoulders. His eyes were lost behind an anguish grimace.

The darker Saint crashed to the floor in too much pain to even cry out. Connor's mind was racing, wild with helplessness. His tears broke through as the blows kept falling on his brother. The iron struck Murphy's back, his arms. Only a muffled cry or groan indicated he was conscious. The blood rushing in Connor's ears began to drown out the small sounds escaping Murphy.

Connor thrashed from the grip of the second henchmen. "Stop! Please, yer killin' him!" Seeing his brother not moving, not talking back sent Connor to the threshold of pure panic. "Murph!" Hot tears spilled from the Saint's eyes.

Murphy couldn't even scream. Everything hurt too much, but he just couldn't force any sound from his throat. All he could do was curl into a ball as best he could to protect himself in some small way. He'd have blacked out from the pain if he hadn't heard Connor calling out to him, rooting him to consciousness. He managed a tortured gasp, "Con... Con..."

Connor quieted instantly when he heard his brother's voice. "Yeah, Murphy?"

Panza stopped mid-swing and raised his glare on Connor. "I thought you learned your lesson about that mouth of yours."

Connor felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him pale with horror. His heart dropped and stomach clenched. He was breathless with tears, "No… Please... I'm sorry."

The Italian yanked Murphy by an arm to turn him over. Connor was grateful that Panza had pulled his brother's good arm, leaving the dislocated one alone. But then he pulled out a knife... Connor's eyes widened. He found another breath and pleaded. "Please! Punish me, not him..."

Panza just smirked at Connor. "I am." The man sliced Murphy's shirt open. Connor needed to stop this, but he couldn't. Murphy started to struggle, cursing at the Italian. Connor felt a twinge of relief that his brother seemed to have some of his fire left in him.

Murphy fought back as best he could with his bound limbs. He absolutely refused to die. He couldn't. There was no way he was going to leave Connor alone in this hell. He couldn't even think about doing that to his brother. However, no matter how hard he struggled, he was tired and injured while Panza was not. The Italian took control easily, bringing the tip of the blade to brush against Murphy's collarbone.

Connor was convinced at that point that Panza intended to kill his brother. Thought he was going to slit his throat right then. He needed his brother to hear what everything in him was screaming. "Murphy, oh God...I'm sorry, please, I'm so sorry!" The last he directed toward Panza, tears coursing down his face. "Don't... Please!"

Panza ignored Connor as the second man took hold of him again. The fairer Saint didn't react to the hands gripping his biceps. He just stared at his brother. Murphy struggled, weakly. Panza dragged the knife across his bare chest, slicing a long cut parallel to Murphy's collarbone. Then he did it again. Another line under the first...

The process dragged on, Murphy squirming under the blade cutting him open until three long, jagged lines marred his chest. The air stung the open wounds. When the blade on the last cut went particularly deep, Murphy couldn't help but let a strangled yelp escape his split lips. He bit it back quickly though, trying to appear uninjured for Connor.

Connor's turmoil turned to rage when Murphy cried out in pain. He screamed for his brother, because he knew his brother wouldn't. Couldn't... "Murphy!"

Panza leaned over Murphy, glaring into his defiant eyes. "You Irish like to drink, don't you?" The Italian pulled out a flask from a jacket pocket.

Murphy went still when he saw the flask. He knew where this was headed and he was just too tired and... too scared... to fight back. His body went slack under Panza as he closed his eyes, trying in some way to prepare for the utter agony that was about to befall him.

Connor went still when Murphy did. He stared in confusion. He hadn't worked out what was about to happen. Panza unscrewed the cap and took in a mouthful. The Italian held the flask, shaking it dramatically. "Vodka," he said, raising the flask over Murphy's chest. "Bottoms up..." Panza tipped the flask over and emptied its contents into the three deep slashes on Murphy's chest.

Pain. Murphy only knew pain. Agony, suffering, pure torture. That was all Murphy knew. He forgot about the dark basement. He forgot the camera recording his every move. He forgot about the men who'd tortured him and his brother for the past few hours. He even forgot Connor... Forgot everything as an inhuman scream tore from his shredded body.

Connor watched in horror as Murphy thrashed, roaring in pain. He knew what it meant for Murphy to unleash a scream like that. Nothing but the most extreme anguish could get his stubborn Irish brother to make a sound like the one that filled the room. Connor just sat there, eyes on his brother writhing on the floor under Panza's grip. He sobbed. And continued to sob as Murphy stilled, blacking out as the pain took its toll. Connor's tears continued long after he was left alone, voice echoing on the blank basement walls. "I'm sorry..."

Murphy didn't know how long he was out for. All he knew was that his chest was on fire. Everything throbbed and burned. Even the blessed black of the abyss couldn't keep the pain at bay for him. He was stuck in a state of semi-awareness, able to hear Connor's pitiful cries as he apologized for the damage that had been done to his brother. In the only way Murphy could to comfort him, he managed to turn his head in Connor's direction, trying to let his twin know that he was still with him...

Connor saw his brother's head move. He calmed himself as best as he could. "Murphy? Can yah hear me, brudder?" When Murphy didn't make a sound, Connor's guilt crushed his heart. "I...I'm so sorry..." He tried to hold back another racking sob.

Murphy couldn't... just couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. It hurt too much. But Connor was crying because of him, and he couldn't deal with that. Using every bit of energy he had left, Murphy tried to mumble Connor's name. "Mmm... Cnnrrr..."

Connor's crying only barely let up. "Okay...you juss rest now, alright? Don'tcha worry 'bout me." He blinked away the tears blinding him. Connor felt beyond terrible that it was his mouth that put Murphy in such a personal hell. "I'm...I'm so sorry, brudder. Forgive me..."

Everything was burning. Murphy had never in his whole life known such a pain. The iron had been a blessing compared to this sensation. He needed Connor. Connor's comfort and touch. He needed to know his brother was alright. But he couldn't force his body to move at all. All he could do was cry out for his twin as best he could. "Cnnnrrr...mmm...Cnnn..."

Connor knew Murphy wouldn't be able to hold much of a conversation in his state. His brother needed him. He could feel it. So Connor laid down beside him, careful not to hit his wounded shoulder. He shifted himself to get as close as possible. "Yer alright...I'm here, Murphy. I'm right here. Juss rest..."

Connor lay next to Murphy a long time that way. Neither Saint moved. He didn't think Murphy was awake, but whispered to him anyway. "Da' will be here soon, brudder...I can feel it in me bones." He took a wheezing breath. It was harder to breathe than it had been before. "You'll see... We'll be juss fine..."

Murphy heard Connor. He's always been able to hear Connor, no matter what. And though he wanted so badly to speak with him, to let him know that he was still hanging on, he couldn't make a sound. So he just laid there in his agony, listening to Connor's comforting words.

The bruising on Connor's back seemed to make breathing difficult. Cracked ribs didn't help. It was all building up, the pain and despair. So he focused on Murphy. He just kept whispering in hopes that it helped in some small way. "An' we'll visit Ireland again. Murph..."

Murphy missed Ireland. He missed the open spaces and the fresh air. He missed the gentle breezes and the cool temperatures. He could practically feel the green grass of home beneath. He could see Connor, all golden and tan in the shining sunlight. The image lulled him to a false sense of peace.

The fairer Saint continued, ignoring the pressure building around his lungs. He spoke around gasping inhales. "Juss think...o' all dat fresh air, brudder...de Emerald Isles...in all her splendor..." Connor was suddenly seized with a wheezing cough. He exhaled a deep groan when the cough finally subsided. "Murph... I love yah."

Murphy didn't like the sound of that cough. He didn't like the way that it sounded like Connor was saying goodbye. And though speech was impossible, for Connor, he could do anything. He at least had to try. "Cnnn... Cnnnrr... oovvvee oooh."

A wave of relief hit him when Connor heard Murphy reply with the best 'I love you' he could manage. He felt the tears drop from his eyes, joining those already on the floor. But he smiled sadly that Murphy had made the effort to speak. Connor knew that it couldn't have been easy for him. Then he was reminded why that was. Because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Oh Murph...I'm so sorry brudder...I won't...let 'em..." Connor was gripped by another fit of gasping coughs that stopped him from finishing his promise.

Concern for Connor ebbed away at the darkness that clouded Murphy. He managed to force his torn body closer to Connor, trying with what little he had to make things easier for his twin. He had to let him know that he was here for him, that he wouldn't leave him. "C-Con?" Murphy rushed out the word in a sigh of air.

Though Connor was glad to hear a more forceful word from his brother he was mad that his injuries were making Murphy push himself. His brother needed to rest. So he told him was he hoped was the problem. "Mm'fine, Murph...juss a lil' s-swelling...makin' it hard ta breathe. Don't worry."

The mention of swelling had Murphy's heart pounding in his bloody chest. Swelling was bad news. News he wasn't willing to accept. "Con... Connor..." he moaned, unable to do anything else. He felt so useless, doing nothing but lying on the floor in misery, but what else could he do when everything hurt.

Connor fought the pain to move himself closer to Murphy. Close enough for his forehead to touch just above his brother's ear. He calmed his breathing. "You juss focus...on healing up...a bit...alright? I'll be fine..."

Connor stifled another cough, swallowing the tickle at the back of this throat. He wanted to stay strong for Murphy, but he was also scared. He admitted his fear despite the desire to keep it from his twin. "I... I t'ink he broke a rib wit' da crowbar, Murph... But yah juss focus on yerself fer now."

Murphy couldn't stand to hear that. Broken ribs wasn't something to be taken lightly. It could cause real damage... Permanent damage. At Connor's words, Murphy managed to pull himself out of his agony long enough to form words. "Y-Ya..." he licked his lips and tried again. "Ya... okay? Con..." A rush of air over his wounds had him arching his back against the pain, hissing a breath of air.

Connor caught a halting breath. He angled his head back to look at Murph's face. Connor considered lying about his fear, but he remembers his tattoo. Lying just wasn't his style. "Mmm, Murph... I...I dunno, brudder..." He tried another deep breath. It wasn't as deep as the last time. He continued, "But there's nothin'...yah can do...'bout it. Juss rest, alright?" Then Connor fought another wheezing cough, gasping for air in between.

This was bad. This was very bad. If Connor was admitting his fears, he was worse off than Murphy could even imagine. But he didn't want Connor to think about the possibility that he... the possibility that Murphy couldn't and wouldn't accept. And the only way to get Connor to stop worrying about one thing was to make him worry about another. Taking a gasp of air, Murphy forced out the words Connor needed. "Connor... it hurts... real bad, Con..."

Murphy... All Connor could think about was Murphy. If his brother admitted how much pain he was is, to actually talk about it... It was bad. Connor's eyes searched his brother's face. He saw the blood from the cuts on Murphy's chest pooling around his neck and shoulders. Connor felt so helpless. "I know, brudder.. ...Is there anythin' I can...do fer yah?"

Murphy used his good shoulder to get just a little closer to his brother, needing the contact. "Stay wit' me," Murphy pleaded softly. He sighed, ribs and back aching from the blows from the crowbar. "Con? I'm... I'm scared," the darker twin admitted quietly. "I dunno if... if I can make it much longer... I wanna... wanna go home, Con."

His brother's words tugged at his heart. Connor needed to get closer, wishing once again to be able to take his brother's hand in a firm grip. He tried to move again, but pain seized him with renewed intensity. So Connor just cried, "M-me too, Murph... An' I ain't...goin' anywhere." He repeated a pact they had once agreed upon. "We go together, right?"

Murphy doesn't answer. He can't anymore. He hadn't been lying when he told Connor how much pain he was in. And now, the dark was calling for him again, playing with the edges of his vision as his breathing slowed and the misery took him over again. All he could manage was a low whine that escaped his raw throat.

Panic surged in Connor's chest. "Murph?" His voice rose in pitch as fear tightened his vocal cords. "Murphy?! Brudder please...don't leave me...I'm not ready ta be alone..." Connor struggled with his pain to get to knees, using the adrenaline to get him there. He got upright, but his wheezing cough produces blood this time. He spits out a mouthful before calling to his brother again. "M-murphy?!"

Connor was kneeling over Murphy trying to wake him again when he heard familiar, dreadful footsteps approaching. His eyes were fixed on the door with a deeper dread than he had felt yet. He didn't want his brother to get pulled into whatever was about to happen. "Shh, juss sleep Murphy..."

The approach of their tormentors... their killers... drew Murphy from the dark. He ignored Connor's commands and managed to stay conscious, though he couldn't open his eyes. Still, he had to let Connor know... know that he was with him, even until the end. "Con... m'here..."

Connor tensed when Murphy spoke. His voice was affected by it, staying high and wavering. "Murph...don't move, alright?" The door opened. Connor stared up at the three men from his knees. Their eyes were on Connor. He took a small breath and spoke very quietly to his twin, adding a silent prayer that Murphy listened. "Stay quiet..."


	7. Darkness and Death

_Candra's Note: Okay, kiddies. Veritas here told me a bedtime story the other night. Wanna hear it? Okay. Once upon a time, Reedus ate a cupcake. And everyone talked about it for three weeks. Because they wanted to be the cupcake. The end. __Anywho, here's the next chapter, try not t cry. I dare you._

_VeritasVamp: I believe this is the LATEST we've stayed up for writing this story. And it's totally worth it when we get your reviews. Oh and, um, sorry...for this... Enjoy!_

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_**Chapter Seven: Darkness and Death**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

The cameraman stayed on Connor as the two men took him by the arms, dragging him away from his brother. Connor didn't struggle. He just couldn't. He hoped none of the men would notice that Murphy was conscious. He would suffer anything if it would spare his brother. Panza crouched to look him in the eye. The Italian sneered at him, "Have you learned that lesson yet, Connor?"

Connor opened his mouth to throw a comment back in his face, but he knew better. So he just gritted his teeth and glared at Panza.

The Italian stood upright before Connor and half-smiled. "Seems so... For now."

Without warning Panza gripped Connor by the throat and forcibly shoved him to the ground. Connor saw stars when his back slammed into the cement floor. A sharp yelp of pain echoed in the small room. Connor managed to slide his feet out from under him, tilting his knees away from his attacker. Then Panza knelt on his chest...

Pain sent a bright flash to Connor's eyes, blinding him. A scream formed in the back of his throat. But it was strangled short, replaced with choked gasping. Then the punches to his face started... Hit. Hit. Panza held him down by the throat. He was defenseless against each hateful strike.

The Saint couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream or fight back. So he just took each blow in private torment. Connor had nearly blacked out before he was allowed to breathe again. Panza's hand let go of its grip from under his jaw. His knee came off Connor's battered chest.

Connor's eyes were still pinched shut as fresh blood poured from his nose and a new cut on his brow. He sucked in a breath and immediately was racked with a painful fit of coughing. But something felt off. Connor choked on the coughs, unable to stop the quiet sobs that blended with it. He swallowed and tasted the blood from the cut that had reopened in his mouth.

Murphy knew better to call out. Even if he wanted to, it would've been a challenge. But the sounds of Connor's quiet sobs of misery yanked on his heart. All he could do was watch, cracking his eyes open, offering his gaze to Connor, letting him know that he wasn't alone.

Murphy watched in silent horror as these men beat his brother to the point Connor could only wheeze as his body trembled on the cold ground. Silent tears fell from the darker twin's eyes, stinging the open wounds that already burned his chest. But the pain didn't matter. All that mattered was Connor.

And when he heard his brother's breath hitch painfully, he knew. He just knew. They were killing him, killing Connor. And Murphy couldn't allow that to happen, screw the consequences. He managed a barely audible whisper. " No..." Not his brother. They couldn't kill his brother.

Connor's eyes stared blankly at the low ceiling. He had only just managed to get his coughing under control when the men gathered to leave. Panza stopped. He stepped on Connor's chest increasing the pressure building there. He leaned over Connor and laughed, "Tell Murphy we'll see him soon."

Then Connor heard his brother's whispered protest. At first he thought they wouldn't hear, but the men stopped. They heard...

Panza glanced back over his shoulder, "Wait... What was that?"

Connor caught his breath. He avoided looking at Murphy as he maneuvered his way back to his knees. He would cover for Murphy, even if it killed him. Connor's voice was rough as blood filled his mouth. "I said, no. I won't tell him a thing..." He prayed the Italian would just buy the lie and walk out. Connor locked eyes with Panza hoping it would sell it better.

Murphy heard Connor lie for him. He knew that for speaking back, these men would attack him again. And Murphy also knew that Connor couldn't take another round of abuse. It wasn't an option. He had to silence his twin. In the strongest whisper he could manage, he rasped, "Con, shut up!" He just hoped... prayed that these men would leave his brother be...

It was all Connor could do to stay upright on his knees. His shoulders slouched forward pulling his wrists painfully against the zip-ties. Panza hadn't believed his lie. He turned back into the room, "No... That wasn't you."

Connor breathed through the terror, trying to keep it from surfacing. The Italian crossed the room, toward Murphy. By some miracle, Connor had had another tortured coughing fit just as Murphy whispered for him to shut up. So Panza hadn't hear him. But he still moved closer to the darker Saint.

Through great pain, Connor struggled to get in the way. He wanted to draw Panza back to him, away from Murphy. He spoke as firmly as he could manage, putting his Irish attitude in it this time. "Yes it was... My brother is unconscious yah sick bastards..."

Murphy tensed when Connor spoke again. He knew what his brother was doing. He knew Connor was trying to protect him. But if protection meant that Connor would die, he didn't want it. He would rather meet his dark fate. "It was me," he managed to speak a little louder, loud enough that he was sure Panza would hear him. "I said it."

Connor had turned his head to follow Panza. His mind was racing, screaming for Murphy to stop trying to protect him. And Panza had turned his head back to glare at Connor, "Don't you lie to me or I'll cut that tattoo..." Connor had just met his eyes with as much intensity. Then Murphy's spoke again. And there was no mistaking it this time. Connor flinched, his voice carried defeat. "No... Murph..."

Panza took a swift step to Connor and viciously backhanded the Saint. Connor's head snapped to side throwing him off his already shaky balance. He fell hard, a pained exhale escaping him. Connor's head was near his brother's whose weary blue eyes were barely open. Connor winced sadly at him, understanding why he did it.

Panza hissed in anger, calling the others back in. "Change in schedule... Get the camera over here."

Connor could hardly breathe laying on his side. He gasped a breath and screamed, "No!" A wheezing cough seized him. He curled in as the pain spread through his torso.

The camera followed Panza as he approached the darker twin. Though it obviously wasn't necessary, the other man came and wrenched Connor up to his knees, the Saint gasping for air at the motion. Panza followed suit, yanking on Murphy's dislocated shoulder, pulling him vertical as Murphy managed to choke off a strangled yelp of pain.

Panza took Murphy's jaw tightly in hand, a bruising grip crushing the Saint's cheekbones. Murphy glared defiantly into Panza's eyes as the Italian forced him to look away from Connor. Murphy saw a new anger in those dark eyes. He saw the will to kill. He saw that he was going to die, and it wasn't going to be pretty. He called out to Connor as best he could, wanting to shield his brother in this one last way, "S'okay, Con. Juss... Don't watch."

Panza removed his grip on Murphy's face long enough to deliver an unforgiving backhand to him. He grabbed at him again with a crushing force before Murphy even had the chance to spit the blood in his mouth out. Panza hissed darkly, "Oh he'll watch...or I'll kill you. Or maybe I will regardless."

Murphy just glared at him. It was over anyways. There was no way that he was coming out of this alive. He figured he might as well piss off as many people as he could going out, if only to get in the last word. "Go ahead an do it," his strangled voice dared. "Be a blessin' ta not have ta see yer ugly mug anymore."

Connor sagged in the grip holding him up on his knees. He was beginning to realize what was coming. His eyes flooded with an overwhelming sadness. Murphy's attitude was going to speed it up and Connor wasn't ready for that. He never would be. Connor's voice was raw and quiet. His lungs had a hard time giving him volume. "Shh, Murph... Don't."

Panza got in close to Murphy's face with his own. He spoke with cruelty. "'You must watch dear, it'll all be over soon...' Recognize those words?"

"So what if I do?" Murphy shot back. "Connor innit gonna watch dis," he said, prayed that his brother would for once, just listen to him. His time was at an end and the last thing he wanted was for Connor have to see it happen.

Panza backhanded Murphy with his free hand again. Connor winced at the brutality of it. He knew it would enrage the Italian but he wanted to back his brother up. So he did. "Whatever you want, brudder." Then Connor closed his eyes.

Murphy smirked through his pain as he reeled from the blow. His brother had done as he asked, and that just fueled Murphy's flame. He righted himself as best he could before grinning at Panza, his teeth stained red with his own blood. "So are ya gonna get started?" Murphy prodded. "I'm gettin' bored."

Panza snarled in Murphy's face before he punched him again. And again. And again. Murphy managed to stay upright on sheer will, all the while, a defiant glare stayed glued to his face. When Panza became bored with the lack of a response, he tried something new. He drove the tips of his fingers into the deepest cut marring Murphy's chest.

Murphy had no choice in the matter of even attempting to hide his agony. A terrible, inhuman scream ripped forth from his throat, the sound of utter misery. "A Thiarna, a chur chugam sa bhaile, anois!" _Lord, take me home, now!_ Murphy cried on a single pained breath as he begged God for his own death...

Connor's eyes snapped open at his brother's tortured, roaring scream. Then Murphy's words registered... An unholy rage flooded through Connor. All his own pain slipped away to background noise. Connor unleashed a scream to rival his brother's. "NO!"

The fairer Saint violently arched his back. He struck the man behind him with the back of his head. The man exhaled abruptly with the hit. His hands released Connor to instinctively wrap around his ribs where Connor's head had hit him.

Connor was fueled by panic and rage. He got his feet under him and launched himself bodily toward Panza. He slammed into the Italian, knocking both he and Murphy to the floor. Connor ignored the glaring rage that lit Panza's face. He just hauled himself up and over his brother, shielding Murphy with his own body.

Murphy couldn't see. His vision had gone to black from the pain. He felt something warm and loud collide with him, knocking him to the ground. He somehow recognized the object as his brother. And though Murphy's body felt like it was burning in Hell, it didn't matter when his mind raced with the possibilities of consequences for Connor's protective actions...

Connor screamed with all the ferocity in his blood. "Yah keep yer hands off him!" Then he turned his eyes toward his brother's pained expression. Was this it? Was his twin about to... Terror took hold. "Murph! Look at me... Look at me right now!"

Murphy gasped for air, crushed under the heavy weight of his brother. He managed to speak around his panicked breaths. He feared for his brother's safety. He needed him to get away, to protect himself. "Con... go away... Get away..." He cried out in pain when Connor shifted against him, tearing at the cuts on his chest.

Connor's face was etched with horror when Murphy cried out in pain. And he was the cause. Connor hurried to lift his weight off his brother. The adrenaline had started to dissipate. Pain tore through him and wave after wave of violent coughing passed over him. He couldn't stop it even as blood began spilling from his lips. He gasped for air between the coughs.

Connor's eyes were shut against the pain washing over him. He never saw Panza stand and take a fistful of his hair. The Italian took a grip on Connor's arm as well and dragged the Saint away from his twin. Connor tried to protest but the blood in his mouth and throat.

Panza threw Connor back against the wall, it being the only reason the Irishman stayed upright. The Italian stuck a finger in Connor's bleeding face and growled with rage. "It seems only one thing will get through to you, Connor MacManus... Time for your 'dear brudder' to die..."

Murphy can't even move from the floor. He had no strength left at all, and he didn't even try for his pride's sake. He just turned his head to Connor, finding his brother's wide and fearful eyes. Murphy knew. Connor knew. Everyone knew. It was Murphy's time. And he accepted his fate, too weak to protest. He speaks to Connor, one last time, saying his goodbye. "Connor, I love ya. Be waitin fer ya..."

Connor's eyes locked on Murphy's. His body went slack. The adrenaline was gone, taking his fight with it. Tears streaked through the blood on Connor face. The Saint was crushed by despair. He spoke around the blood in his mouth. "Murphy... Don't go..."

Black plays at the edges of Murphy's vision. He knows that Connor will be the last thing he ever sees. His brother is bleeding, blood pouring from the corners of his mouth. Murphy's stomach drops, seeing his brother so battered. He knew he didn't look much better, himself. Still... he was sorry... Sorry that he was about to leave Connor by himself, the last thing he'd ever wanted. "I'm sorry I couldn't... couldn't be yer Macho Murph t'day, Connor..."

And Connor just couldn't beg his brother to stay any longer. Not in this torment. He relaxed against the wall. Against all internal protest, Connor had started to let go. To let go of Murphy... Connor's voice broke with tears. "S'alright brudder... I love yah, alright?" He swallowed to clear his throat of blood. Tears fell from his broken expression. "See yah soon..."

Panza knelt on Murphy's chest and pulled out that familiar knife of his. He glared down at the helpless man under him. A twisted smile spread across his face.

Murphy didn't look at Panza. He didn't look at the knife. All he could see was Connor crying for him and that just killed Murphy. He couldn't even take in the situation, that he could ever leave Connor hear alone, or at least until how long it took for these men to torture him to death.

Murphy hated himself. He hated that he was so weak. That he couldn't even put on a brave face for his brother when the end was here. He hated how pathetic he was. And he just couldn't say sorry enough... "Connor, I'm so sorry, brudder. Juss... don't watch dis... don't remember me like... like dis..." He didn't want Connor's last image of his prideful brother to be that of a bloody, beaten, broken man... And yet the tears still fell.

Connor kept eye contact with Murphy. He felt a rush of sadness fill him. Connor wanted to make Murphy understand he could never think of him as anything less than his fiery tempered, energetic brother. Always moving. Always loving.

Connor struggled to get the words out. Not for the emotion of it, but because the pain in his torso had dialed up a few notches in intensity. It took a lot of control to keep another cough at bay."I see you Murph... an' you're perfect... Ain'ta... thing wrong wit' yah."

Panza chuckled at Connor, mocking him. "Aww, how cute. But don't worry, Connor. You won't be seeing your 'brudder' any time soon. When I'm done..." The Italian lowered his chin, staring at Connor from under his dark brows. "...I'll keep you around for a good, long while."

Connor could feel the man's threatening gaze on him, but he refused to look away from Murphy. It was time to admit what he'd known for a while. He hadn't wanted Murphy to worry, but it that wouldn't matter much longer anyway.

Connor's face went blank, eyes half-closed but still on his condemned brother. His voice had a water-logged quality to it. "What does it matter? I have a punctured lung already. Time's running out."

Murphy's eyes went wide when Connor admitted the most horrible thing he could imagine. Connor... his protective, roof-jumping, plan-making twin was dying... Connor. His brother.

Murphy struggled with a new intensity with the grip on him. And though he fought with all he had, the fingers locked around his throat didn't allow him any movement.

Panza laughed at Murphy's weak struggles, only putting more force on the doomed Saint. "An interesting development... I see you two love each other very much. New plan...," he crowed, shooting Connor a dark look.

Connor's heart dropped with dread. He watched Panza. Waiting... He struggled to keep another coughing fit back. Instead he tilted his head back and swallowed again.

Panza's eyes studied Connor's face in anticipation. He revealed the plan he was about the change. "I'll NOT skin your brother as I had previously decided..." There was the expression he was looking for...

Connor blinked in shock. His eyes rounded and his lips pressed together. But he didn't say a word. He just waited in tortured silence for his brother's sentence to be announced.

The Italian winked at Connor. Actually winked. Then he finished what he started. "Instead, I'll allow him to share your fate..." Connor followed the knife with his eyes. His heart rate accelerated in horror as Panza lowered the knife to Murphy's chest just above his heart. The tip dragged lightly across the bare skin, down to his left side.

Panza's dark eyes were on his victim, staring almost hungrily where the tip touched bruised ribs. "Time's up for Saint Murphy the martyr..." Without another moment, the Italian slowly pressed the blade between two ribs and into Murphy's side. The blade sank deep into the Saint's lung. Panza just held the moment. Savoring it...

The howl of an anguished animal shattered the silence of the air. It wasn't the sound of a man screaming, it was the final cry of a creature in the most pure agony. It was the call of death.

Pain riddled Murphy's entire being. It consumed him entirely as blood began to pool in his mouth. It was utter agony, knowing that his only relief was death. And his death would be a slow one, drowning on his own blood... gasping for air that his body couldn't take in...

Connor's eyes went wide in shock. His mind took a second to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Then his breathing sped up, exasperating his punctured lung. Adrenaline coursed through his body, empowering action. "Murph!" He screamed and struggled to his brother's side. His own agony became peripheral at the site and sound of blood filling his brother's mouth.

Panza didn't stop Connor's movement toward his dying twin. He just twisted the blade and pulled it out as slowly as it had gone in. The cameraman stepped in closer.

Blood spilled out around Murphy's lips. He couldn't breath... he couldn't... couldn't focus... He could feel himself going, the life draining out of him. He was about to submit to the darkness when he felt Connor at his side, the blurry view of his brother the only thing keeping him from letting go...

Connor ignored everyone but Murphy. Panza. His nameless lackey. The cameraman. None of them matter anymore. Nothing but Murphy... He got close to him, the way Murphy had done for Rocco the night he died. "Murphy! Please, please brudder...hold on!"

Connor's desperate screams provoked a violent series of coughs. Blood poured down his chin and neck. When Connor gasped for air, he could hardly get enough. Only for a brief moment did the fairer Saint realize how terrifying this death was. Then he knew Murphy must be feeling the same thing. He just cried, searching for awareness in his brother's wandering eyes.

Murphy could hear Connor, but he sounded so far away... like when they'd first been brought here and they'd been separated. How long ago had that been? Hours? Days? It didn't matter. It would all be over in a matter of minutes.

Murphy's eyes searched through the fog to find his brother. When he did, Connor's shape was funny, blurry at times as sharp at others. It hurt Murphy's head to take in, but he didn't care. Connor was here with him as he choked out his painful words... "Can't... Can't breath... Con... Wanna die."

Connor was too horrified to cry. He just blinked in shock at his brother's words. He understood, but he wasn't ready. Connor just wanted a little more time... "No, no...please? Juss hold on brudder..." He lost Murphy's eyes. They wandered, focusing on something unseen behind him. This sent a wave of panic through Connor. "Murph?! Please, juss hold on!" He choked on a throat-full of blood, again.

Murphy wasn't there anymore... he wasn't I'm that basement. He was somewhere else... going home. All these beautiful things, he had to share it with Connor. He could feel his brother with him but couldn't see him... "Con? I see... I see home... Ireland... Con, it's so bright... Con? Do ya... Do ya got... got yer rope...? Where... Where's me knife?... Roc? Rocco?... Con, do'ya see... see Roc?"

Connor wanted desperately to put pressure on the wound but his hands were still firmly bound behind him. The three men stood surrounding the Saints, watching this unfold. Enjoying it. Connor gasped as man drowning just to be able to speak, "I don't...see Roc, Murph... H-how's he lookin'?" He forced himself to calm down, knowing his panic was making things worse.

Murphy coughed blood, the red liquid spattering on Connor's face, but he couldn't see that. His breath was wheezy, but he didn't care about that. He cared about the tremor of fear in Connor's voice. He had to do one last thing to calm him... make this easier. "He looks... better than us..." Murphy admitted, his view of Rocco waiting calmed him in the slightest way. "He's callin'... fer me, Con... Says he... he doesn't hate me... fer da basement..."

Connor felt himself begin to accept this... This was it. He felt his brother's blood on his face and his own tears joined it. His gathered the strength to speak again. "Aw, o' course he wouldn't hate'cha..." Connor's cough turned into a sob. He choked that back too. "I know he wants ta see yah, Murph, but can yah stay juss a minute longer fer me?"

Murphy hears the plea in his brother's voice. He'd almost never heard Connor beg for anything. Ever. He was so strong... and here he was, scared for Murphy's sake. Murphy tried to find him, to see him again, but the blue of Connor's eyes seemed just that much dimmer... "Con? Con, I'm... I'm tryin... Can't stay much... longer..." Murphy admitted weakly. But he had to say one last thing, Connor had to know... "I love ya..."

Something in Connor began to settle. He hated to make his brother suffer longer on his behalf. He wasn't ready, but he had to let Murphy go. His twin. His best friend...was dying. Connor swallowed back more tears. His voice was loving, meant to soothe Murphy. As if he were just having a hard time falling asleep. "Alright brudder, I love yah too..." Connor kept his crying quiet. "I'll tell Da yah love him too..."

Murphy was fading... The sound of his brother's voice kept him calm though as he went to meet his maker. He just had to know... had to know that Connor would be okay with being left here alone. He used the last of his strength to ask weakly, "Con? Can... Can I go... Go home now? Please? It... It hurts..."

Connor's heart broke for his twin. He leaned closer, miraculously calm. Connor touched his forehead to Murphy's temple and spoke quietly into his brother's ear. "Alright Murphy, yah can go..." He grimaced in a silent cry. He calmed again. "Tell Roc I'm sorry... Murph? Juss know, I love yah..."

Murphy finally wrapped his oxygen-deprived mind around what was happening. He was leaving. Leaving Connor. His brother and his best friend. How could he...? He just couldn't fathom that. So he asked, voice exposing his fear. "Are ya... ya comin' wit me? Con... I don't wanna... wanna leave ya..."

Taking a wheezing breath, Connor coughed more blood. It took him a few seconds to clear his throat enough to speak. When he did, his voice carried his sadness. Connor was preparing himself to die. "Almost brudder... I'm almost ready..." He lower his head to the floor, resting it beside Murphy's ear. "Yah wanna wait fer me, Murph? We can go together?"

Murphy somehow managed to move his dying body just that much closer to Connor's, finding that there wasn't much warmth left him his brother's skin. His head bumped gently with his twin's, the two snuggled close in their final moments. "Course I'll... I'll wait... Can't... Can't leave ya now... can I? Been stuck wit ya all... all me life." Murphy teased his last, always trying to make light of things, even to the end. But then gravity of the situation fell down on him. "Tis been... a good life, Con... Wouldn't change... a thing..." he admitted as his breathing slowed...

Distant footfalls echoed somewhere beyond the room. Connor was only vaguely aware of the sound. It seemed irrelevant to him, compared to Murphy's last words. But then an odd, familiar sensation came over him. A memory of another basement years ago...

The footsteps stopped somewhere nearby. Connor waited. A prayer on his lips... The door suddenly crashed and splintered open, nearly ripped from its hinges. When Connor craned his head toward the sound he knew his prayer had been answered.

Da stood in the doorway. Two guns already in hand...


	8. Fathers and Flatlines

_Candra's Note: Don't hate us. We've been very busy doing stuff and thaaangs. I'm actually to blame. I went back to school for my Junior year and am taking three AP classes, so that takes up a good bit of my time. Anyways, this baby is almost done. I'm guessing... three more chapters._

_Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence._

_Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons. _

* * *

**Angels in Hell**

_**Chapter Eight: Fathers and Flatlines**_

**Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97**

Da could hear Connor's cries from the other side of a closed door. He readied his guns and gave a powerful kick just at the door knob. Wood splintered. The door nearly came off its hinges.

It only took a moment for Il Duce to take in the scene. And what he saw ignited a rage in his blood more powerful than he'd ever felt before.

Three Italians stood surrounding the Saints. His boys. One was clearly there as muscle, an extra pair of hands. Another held a camera on the two brothers. Then there was Panza. Smiling down at his handy work, the knife in hand covered with blood to the hilt and still dripping wet.

Connor was on his knees screaming over Murphy who lay bleeding on the floor. Both had their ankles and wrists secured together. Both looked beyond rough. Connor was coughing blood. Murphy appeared to be drowning in the blood filling his mouth, too weak to do anything about it. Da's eyes met Connor's. It was then Il Duce reacted.

A rapid, thunderous roar filled the room as Il Duce sprayed bullets into the chests and heads of both Panza's henchmen. Panza himself got a bullet in each kneecap as Il Duce took full strides across the room. When Il Duce swung his shotgun into play, the hand holding the bloody knife was blown clean from Panza's body. The Italian screamed – half in horror, half in pain – and dropped to his damaged knees.

Il Duce was on him a moment later. He took up the knife covered in his son's blood and slashed across the man's chest. Panza screamed again, falling to his back but unable to gain distance from the Irishman's wrath. Il Duce sliced again, downward this time. A bleeding cross took shape on Panza's chest.

Il Duce began carving a circle into the Italian's chest as well. The gashes began to form a Celtic cross, like the rosaries each MacManus would proudly wear. Then Il Duce was interrupted by the only thing that could've stop him. . . One of his sons' voices. Connor.

"Da. . . Murph. . . He's hurt real bad."

When Il Duce looked at his son he couldn't help but notice the trace of fear in his eyes. Not about his brother. That was terror. No, this was a glance between his face and the justice he was giving Panza. Il Duce decided then that he was finished with the Italian. He sank the blade into Panza throat, upward. The man stopped moving.

Swiftly, Da pulled out his own knife and cut the zip-ties from Connor's raw, bleeding wrists. Connor was on Murphy in the next second. One hand pressed to the stab wound on the side of his chest. The other caressed his twin's face, tapping gently to keep him focused.

"Murph? Murphy?" Connor coughed blood.

The elder MacManus stooped to his knees beside Connor. He spoke gently to his dying boy.

"Murphy, my son, Daddy's here. Yah got ta stay awake now, okay?"

Murphy hardly reacted as Da gently took hold of one of his arms. Da looked at Connor.

"Keep holdin' his wound, Connor. I'm gonna cut his bonds."

His son only nodded, eyes fixed on his brother's face. Da carefully scooped Murphy up into one arm, his shoulders resting on his father's knees. With his free hand, Da severed the plastic restraining his boy's arms. Murphy's hands fell free, but didn't move.

Da let Murphy rest against him. Blood spilled from his mouth. He coughed and gasped weakly.

"S'alright, my boy. . . Juss hold on, help is on da way. Agent Bloom and da boys are outside. They've already called fer help. Daddy's gotcha now, Murphy. . ."

Da was only partly aware of the expression on Connor's face, looking at him as he held his dying son. Tears were falling down his golden features and were not entirely out of fear for his brother.

* * *

Murphy was gone. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He couldn't feel anything but pain. All that he could still process was Connor. Something about his twin still had him clinging to life.

And suddenly, Connor's hands were on him. He could feel his brother's trembling fingers clamping down with a bruising force onto his wound. And he could hear Connor's voice and the panicked tone he was using, but Murphy couldn't understand a single word of it no matter how hard he tried. Nothing, but his own name.

And then someone else was lifting Murphy. It wasn't Connor. His hands were still firmly pressed into his brother's side, trying to stem the blood flow. No, someone else was cutting away the zip-tie around his mangled wrists.

Someone familiar was speaking softly, saying kind, loving things that Murphy couldn't understand. And then he could hear Connor screaming. He couldn't understand he was screaming for help to the EMT's wheeling in a gurney. He didn't even know they were there. He just knew Connor was screaming, and that upset him. Were the familiar hands touching him hurting Connor?

But then Connor and the hands were gone and he was being moved. He needed to scream in pain as his battered body was laid down on something solid, yet soft. All he could manage to do was to mumble with brother's name with breath he no longer had... "Con..."

Connor heard his brother's choked voice saying his name. The EMTs were taking him away, but he needed to be by his brother's side. He tried to call after Murphy, to stand and run to the gurney carrying Murphy away. But only blood came out of his mouth and his ankles were still tied together.

Da saw Connor stumble and quickly moved to severe the ropes around his son's ankles. "Stay still Connor… Let the paramedics do what they do." Connor couldn't take his eyes off of the gurney wheeling Murphy out of the room. He grabbed his father, pulled him close because he could hardly speak.

"Go, Da… Go wit' Murphy…"

Connor saw another man enter the room as Da nodded his understanding. Connor collapsed forward, unable to keep his grip on Da. Connor heard his raspy voice speak quickly and quietly to whoever had just come to kneel beside him.

"Stay wit' him… Yah call me if... anythin' happens…"

The edges of Connor's vision started dimming. He wanted to call for Murphy again. His brother needed to hear his voice. And he needed to hear Murphy's. But he couldn't clear the blood from his throat this time. He was gasping, but it wasn't doing much good. A hand grasped his. Another hand was on his face, trying to get his attention… Connor's lips formed the one thing on his mind, Murphy...

"Hey, man, you need to stay with me now, you hear?"

Connor's eyes rolled back a moment. He heard someone, a familiar voice. He forced his eyes to focus, though they didn't fully obey. He swallowed, coughed, and still couldn't breathe. Connor heard commotion around him, but his thoughts were on Murphy.

"Hey, yo, can I get some help in here? He can't breathe!" the voice said. And suddenly, arms were around Connor, lifting his head up just that much in an attempt to allow him to breathe.

Connor felt the world slipping away. He wanted to scream for Murphy, to tell him to keep fighting… Yet Connor wasn't sure he'd be able to. His lungs felt heavy, like Panza was stepping on his chest. But the Italian was dead…wasn't he?

Then a hand forced Connor's mouth open. The Saint raised his hands to stop whatever was being done to him. He tried to scream. Blood gurgled in his throat. Hands held his arms down...

"Connor, you gotta relax, man! Just let these guys take care you," the voice commanded him.

Connor looked at the man talking to him, who was holding his hand. He realized then it was Romeo. When he opened his mouth to say something, hands held it open, forcing something down his throat. Connor arched his back. He tried to shake his head. It was held firmly in place. It hurt. A lot. His eyes squeezed shut. His hand clamped down on Romeo's.

And then he could breathe. Oxygen was pumped into his lungs. It made his head dizzy. Connor opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. Somehow he was in an ambulance now. He couldn't remember that happening. Romeo was still at his side. But where was Murphy?

Connor felt his heart pumping hard. Pain spread through his entire body. He looked for Murphy. Then remembered…he wasn't in this ambulance. The pain got worse. Connor tried to talk, but that tube was in the way, gagging him. He wanted to get up, but he was strapped down. Immobilized…

Panic flooded through Connor. He couldn't calm down like Romeo was telling him. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe on his own. And he couldn't call out to Murphy. Connor started to kick and thrash. Then he realized he wasn't trying to. A seizure washed over the Saint, sending waves of the most intense pain he had ever felt crashing over him as every muscle in his body spasmed. Then nothing...

* * *

Connor took in a breath and groaned softly. His whole body felt numb, heavy. The Saint could hear the beeping of a hospital monitor. He groaned again and cracked his eyes open. Everything was blurry.

"Connor? Connor, man, can you hear me?" The voice was familiar.

Connor's vision was still hazy. He closed his eyes, moaning. "Murph…?"

"No... No, it's me. It's Romeo, buddy." Romeo felt his stomach churn when Connor called for his brother. He didn't want to have to be the one responsible to tell him... He sighed as he moved closer to Connor's bedside, wanting to let him know he had a friend close by.

"Rome…?" Connor took in another breath. He put more effort toward opening his eyes. He was waking up a bit more. A little more feeling in his body. "Rome… Where's Murph?"

Romeo looked away from Connor. He didn't want him to see the sadness in his eyes. "Uhh... How... How are you feeling, Connor?" Maybe if he changed the subject...

Connor didn't like that Romeo was changing the subject. He thought about the last time he had seen his brother, barely conscious and hardly breathing. What had happened? Connor felt his stomach flip. His voice was stronger this time. "Romeo... Where's Murphy?"

Romeo sighed, still unable to look at Connor. Should he tell him? In this state? "Connor... I dunno if I should tell you right now, man..." He didn't feel comfortable with it. How was he supposed to tell Connor that Murphy had... had...

Connor's heart started to pound. The monitor gave it away. He tried to sit up. Dizziness stopped him. Fear was building in his chest. Had Murphy… No, not after all that… Please, God. No… "Where is he? Murphy? Murph?!" His throat hurt. Yelling made it worse.

Romeo flinched when Connor started to yell. He didn't know what to do... So he decided to just be honest and get it over with. "Connor! Stop, or I'll have to call a nurse in! Murphy... He's... Connor, I need you to answer me before I can tell you, alright? Do you know where you are?"

Connor forced himself to calm down. He didn't want Romeo to call a nurse in. He looked at his friend and nodded. His face was etched with apprehension. "I'm in da hospital…"

Romeo nodded in approval. "Connor... You've been in the hospital for two days, now. You were under the first day while you were in surgery. But it's good news... You're gonna make a full recovery, man..."

Connor blinked as his mind had a hard time taking in all that information. Two days? He couldn't feel relieved about knowing he would make a full recovery… Not without knowing why Romeo was avoiding telling him what happened to Murphy. "An' Murph? Romeo, tell me. What happened?" The Saint felt sick to his stomach.

Romeo looked up to Connor, unable to hide how red his eyes were. He saw the desperate look in Connor's. He needed to know... "Connor... Murphy... He isn't doin' too good. Last I heard about him, he just got out of surgery. And... surgery... It didn't go well..."

Connor's stomach clenched. Murphy… His twin needed him. And he wasn't there. Connor tried to sit himself up a little more. He locked eyes with Romeo. "Wh-what d'yah mean, it didn't go well? Rome… Where is he?"

Romeo placed a hand gently on Connor's shoulder. With a little forced, he pushed his friend's battered body back down to the bed. "Connor, man, you gotta relax. He's in the hospital, on the floor downstairs in an ICU unit. It just... He took longer in surgery than they woulda liked and... something... something happened..."

Connor wanted to resist Romeo's hand pushing him back down, but he wasn't strong enough. He was starting to feel more as the drugs wore off. He calmed only slightly knowing that Murphy was still alive, but the look on Romeo's face still concerned him. "What d'yah mean? What happened? Rome, just tell me…"

Romeo sighed, keeping his hand on Connor for comfort as he settled back in the bed. "They... They don't know if he's gonna make it, Connor. There were complications in surgery... Big ones... And... Murphy might not... Not..." How do you tell your best friend that his brother may die?

A ringing started in Connor's ears. His heart was pounding against his battered ribs. He suddenly felt very cold. And very far away from Murphy. He only wanted to know one more thing before he'd decide what to do next. "Complications? What complications?" Connor held his breath, eyes fixed on Romeo's.

Romeo's tongue was lead. He had to force himself to say what he did next. He didn't want to be the one to deliver the news, but Connor had the right to know. "Murphy... Murphy, uh..." He took a breath. Tried again. Forced it out. "Murphy... flatlined... In surgery."

Connor's heart skipped a beat and dropped in his chest. He felt cold. Numb… Lost. His brother had… died. He was dead… and then resuscitated. And Connor had been asleep. A sort of scream spread through Connor's body, coursing through every nerve. The need to run to his brother… His heart screamed to be with Murphy, but no sound came from the Saint. Not even a breath.


End file.
